Black-robes, or Sketches of missions and ministers in the wilderness and on the border

BLACK-ROBES,

OR

SKETCHES

OF

MISSIONS AND MINISTERS

IN THE WILDERNESS AND ON THE BORDER.

BY VJLX

J°

ROBERT P:*NEVIN.

PHILADELPHIA:

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.

1872.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by

J. B. LIPPJNCOTT & CO.,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

fLacroft

Library

CONTENTS.

THE JESUIT.

PAGE

I. — The Priest and the Parson of Two Hundred Years Ago . 7

II. — The Missionary among the Savages of Superior . . 16
HI. — Marquette, his Cotemporaries and Successors, and what

they accomplished ....... 33

IV. — The Legend of the Defeat of the Eries . . . -53
V.— The Faith on the Pennsylvania Border and in the Valleys

of La Belle Riviere . 66

THE MORAVIAN.

I. — The Moravians in Eastern Pennsylvania . . . .87

II.— The " Place of Hogs" on the Upper Alleghany . . 98
III.— The " Village of Peace" on the Beaver . . . .109

IV. — The Journey through the Wilderness .... 123

V. — Trouble at Work in the Tents on the Muskingum . . 136
VI. — Captain Pipe plans New Mischief, and what came of his

Schemes ......... 151

VII. — The Dispersion of the Congregation ; its Restoration, and

its Return to the Muskingum . . . . • . 171

THE METHODIST.

I.— The Methodist Preacher of the Border— Nascitur, non fit . 185
II. — The Arrest, Awakening, Conviction, Conversion, and the

Call of the Preacher 198

III. — The Preacher in the Pulpit 210

IV. — In the Saddle and on the Circuit ..... 230

V.— The Cane-Ridge Revival . 248

VI. — Mentionable Men among the Preachers of the Border . 265

(iii)

iv CONTENTS.

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

PAGE

I. — Old Redstone — its People and its Presbytery . . .281

II. — The Parson of Seventy-five Years Ago .... 299

III.— The Sabbath-day, and how it was sanctified ,s . . 314

IV.— The Long Sabbath, and the Great Buffalo Sacrament . 334

V.— The Early Laborers in the Border Vineyard . . .348

THE JESUIT.

(5)

THE JESUIT.

THE PRIEST AND THE PARSON OF TWO HUNDRED
YEARS AGO.

A TTRIBUTE the fact to whatever motive we
*^X please, accord to it whatever degree of de
serving, one way and the other, our several preju
dices may incline to, it is nevertheless indisputable
that the Roman Catholic Church has always moved
far in advance of all other Christian denominations
in missionary enterprise. Inspired by a sublime
devotion, the self-denying priest has never hesitated
to respond to a conviction of duty, nor paused to
consider the hinderances in the way of its discharge.
No'field of labor has been so remote, no interven
ing stretch of wilderness and solitude so vast, but
that to attain the one, he has bade willing defiance
to the toils, the trials, and the perils of the other.
Pestilence has not stayed him, famine has not re
strained him, fire and sword have not dismayed him.
Outstripping the march of civilization, distancing
even the enterprise of the few, made famous by the

(7) '

8 BLACK-ROBES.

feat, who, led by desire of traffic, or the love of
wild adventure, have accomplished their bolder
advances, penetrating far, over long-extending
leagues of pathless way, into the heart of savage
wastes, he has assumed the more marvelous
achievement, nor rested content until, traversing
the weary reaches between, of forest, plain, desert,
and mountain, he has journeyed from sea to sea,
and made the passage of a continent.

In 1626, Jean de Brebeuf, of the order of Jesus,
starting from Quebec, entered upon his first mis
sionary labor, fixing his station among the Huron
Indians, on the Canada shore of the lake of that
name, nearly a thousand miles from the point of
his embarkation on the St. Lawrence River. Ten
years later, the exiled preacher, Roger Williams,
the foremost venturer among his Puritan brethren,
sought out a scene for his personal toils — and for
a new settlement — among the Narragansetts in
Rhode Island, but the enterprise took him scarcely
beyond sound of the axe of the pioneer in the clear
ings on the frontier of the Plymouth settlements.
In 1648, John Eliot, the most noted of evangelical
apostles among the Indians, officiating on a salary
of fifty pounds per annum, had extended his labors
into the backwoods, perhaps half a dozen miles
outside of Boston harbor. Seven years before, the
canoe that bore them landed Fathers Jogues and
Raymbault among the Ojibwas, or Chippewas, on
the banks of the Saut Ste. Marie, close upon the

THE JESUIT. 9

waters of Lake Superior, midway almost between
shore and shore of the opposite oceans. Whole
generations later, and within memory of living
men, when ministers, under auspice of the domestic
missionary societies, first went out to serve among
the mixed populations, native and imported, of
Western (peninsular) Michigan, they found the
orchards, grown old and crumbled from decay,
which were planted by the Jesuit fathers nearly a
century and a half before.

If a comparison be instituted between the teach
ings and the preachings of the Papist and the Puri
tan, in the time of which we treat, the contrast will
be marked, and strikingly at variance with a pre
vailing conviction respecting the fact. The instruc
tions under which the follower of Loyola entered
upon his work demanded an exclusive devotion to
the one specific object of his errand, — to proclaim
Christ and his Cross to the benighted savages of
the New World. The Christian virtues were to be
held in strict observance. He was to be meek,
patient, forgiving, temperate, charitable, and of un
tiring affection. He was to conform, as nearly as
possible, to the manners and customs of the tribes
among which he might be thrown; loving them as
brothers ; tendering a cheerful proffer of all cour
tesies and civilities, even the most trifling; par
taking with them of their fare, — a hard task for
graceful performance, but one claimed as a sacred
due of hospitality, — no matter how rude or how re-

I0 BLACK-ROBES.

pulsive it might be ; all, that identifying himself with
them thus intimately, he might the more readily
win them over to the embrace of the Faith which
it was his mission to preach.

The Puritan, on the other hand, took upon him
his office independently, and in boasted contempt
of higher human authority. With the Bible for
his rule and conscience for his guide, only to God
would he hold himself accountable. His peculiar
dogmas regarding forms of belief and of worship,
of government ecclesiastical and civil, and of indi
vidual conduct, made up mainly his religion. In his
preaching he preferred to discourse upon points of
doctrine; to denounce the Divine Right of Bishops;
to discuss the question whether Sanctity of Life is
Evidence of Justification, or to deliver a solemn
protest against the Eating of Mince-pies on Christ
mas. Thus it happened that while Roger Williams
was proclaiming vehemently against the cross in
the English standard, to the spiritual edification
of his hearers, and while, with his ready right
hand, Endicott was defiantly cutting it out, Father
Jogues, a tortured, mutilated prisoner, far away in
a camp of the Iroquois, in the fullness of a more
amiable zeal, was carving the same sacred symbol,
and with it tracing out the adorable name of IESUS
in the bark of the trees. And so it was, that while
the "Apostle of the Indians" found topics quite up
to his taste, for pulpit deliveries, in such themes as
" The Wearing of Wigs and Long Hair," and " The

THE JESUIT. II

Use of Tobacco," Charles Gamier, the gentle disci
ple of Ignatius, was proclaiming the compassionate
lessons of his divine Master in his own inspired
utterances ; preaching repentance and faith to the
Huron and the Iroquois, and administering the
saving sacrament of baptism to his converts, — all
the while, and everywhere, steadily pursuing,
through hazard and through hardship, his ap
pointed task ; that task which was to find its re
quital at last in the crown of martyrdom, for
which, in his moods of ecstasy, he was used to
petition so fervently.

The religion of the Puritan may be said to have
been a religion of the head, characteristically cold,
rigid, and vindictive. Charity with him was an un
familiar virtue. His ministry was devoted to the
rooting out of heresies, and to the instillation of
"wholesome spiritual doctrine." The Law fur
nished him with his texts and his proofs, rather
than the Gospel, as Moses was his master of inspi
ration rather than the Messiah. To keep a salutary
espionage over the consciences of his fellow-com
municants, — to disfranchise Wheelright, and to
banish Mrs. Hutchinson, for the very fault (none
else than non-conformity) which had made him
self an exile from his native land, — was a more
praiseworthy service than would have been the
conversion of a Mohican or a Wampanoag. He
seemed to act upon the presumption that the truth
could make its own way among the Gentiles, and

12 BLACK-ROBES.

that the exclusive office of the teacher or pastor
was to see that the "professor" lived up to the
line of Congregational orthodoxy. His function
was to call the righteous, not sinners, to repent
ance. It was nothing out of the way that Parris
should take it as worthy a heavenly benediction
when he "preached and prayed" against deaf Re
becca Nurse, and had her hanged by the neck, one
summer's day, till she was dead. Cotton Mather
thought that he was winning a peculiar claim to
celestial favor when he harangued the crowd
whose unsahctified instincts threatened to tempt
them to the rescue of the condemned preacher,
Burroughs, as he stood on the scaffold, and with
a comfortable conscience could thank God "for
justice, being so far executed among us," — the
governor and the president of Harvard College
responding " Amen" to it, — as his miserable victim
was launched, strangled, into eternity.

The religion of the Jesuit, on the other hand,
was eminently a religion of the heart. Love was
the cardinal element of his faith. Christ, with him,
was all and in all. Calvary was the sacred mount
ain to which he turned for his oracles, rather than
Sinai. The injunction of his adorable Lord he put
literally in practice, — taking up his cross and fol
lowing him. He never tarried to discuss mooteJ
questions in theological science, receiving the dog
mas of his church without cavil, and confessing to
its mysteries dutifully, satisfied, as he was, in the

THE JESUIT. 13

terms of old and approved acceptance, to under
stand as he believed, and not to fetter and imperil
himself by assuming only to believe as he under
stood. Freed thus from the necessity of lingering
at home to watch against the upgrowth of schism,
lie was at liberty to take up the more benevolent
and consistent offices of his vocation, and where-
ever souls were to be snatched from perdition, —
the more distant and dangerous, the more inviting
the mission, — thither to force his way, or — for with
his face once set upon an errand he never turned
back — to perish in the attempt.

"O my Jesus," said the pious Gabriel Lalle-
mand, "it is necessary that Thy blood, shed for the
savages as well as for us, should be efficaciously ap
plied to their salvation. It is on this account that
I desire to co-operate with Thy grace, and to im
molate myself for Thee." "What shall I render to
Thee, O my Lord Jesus," reads the vow of the
noble Jean de Brebeuf, "for all that I have received
from Thee? I will accept Thy chalice; I will call
upon Thy name. And now I vow, in presence of
Thine eternal Father, and of the Holy Ghost, —
before the angels, the apostles, and the martyrs, —
that if, in Thy mercy, Thou shalt ever offer unto
me, Thy unworthy servant, the grace of martyrdom,
I will not refuse it. From this hour I offer unto
Thee, with all my will, O Thou my Jesus, my body,
my blood, my soul, so that, by Thy permission, I
may die for Thee who hast deigned to die for me.

1 4 BLACK-ROBES.

So, Lord, will I" accept Thy chalice and invoke
Thy name, O Jesus, Jesus, Jesus !''

This was the spirit of the Jesuit's devotion, and
these types of the illustrious company of those
who, like Rene Menard, Chabanel, Garreau, Le
Maistre, Du Poisson, Antoine Daniel, and their
fellows, dedicated themselves to martyrdom, that
the faith to which they were plighted, with its
saving grace, might be implanted in the hearts of
the heathen.

As to the merits of the one order of these eccle
siastical functionaries, and of the other, it may
readily be conceived that a decided opinion pre
vailed in the minds of the savages. "You saw
me," said one of them, representing his people
before the Governor of Massachusetts, " long before
the French did; yet neither you nor your ministers
ever spoke to me of prayer or of the Great Spirit.
They saw my furs and my beaver-skins, and they
thought of them only. These were what they
sought. When I brought them many I was their
great friend. That was all. On the contrary, one
day I lost my way in my canoe, and arrived at last
at an Algonquin village, where the Black-Robes
taught. I had hardly arrived when a Black-Robe
came to see me. I was loaded with peltries. The
French Black-Robe disdained even to look at them.
He spoke to me at once of the Great Spirit, of
Paradise, of Hell, and of the Prayer which is the
only path to heaven. I heard him with pleasure.

THE JESUIT. 15

At length prayer was pleasing to me. I asked for
baptism, and I received it. Then I returned to my
own country, and told what had happened to me.
They envied my happiness, — and set out to find
the Black-Robe, and asked him to baptize them.
If, when you first saw me, you had spoken to me
of prayer, I should have had the misfortune to
learn to pray like you, for I was not able then to
find out if your prayer was good. But I have
learned the prayer of the French. I love it, and
will follow it till the earth is consumed."

While the labors of the early Catholic mission
aries were devoted chiefly to the natives inhabiting
the wildernesses of Canada, they were not so to
the exclusion of a more extended exercise. Their
enterprise led them beyond the boundaries of that
province, and brought them within borders of a
strange land, which, lying south of the chain of
lakes, away in the rear of the Plymouth settlements,
reached, with its broad ranges of forest and prairie,
from the Alleghany Mountains to the Mississippi
River. It is of their attempts, as the pioneers of
Christianity in these regions, — the regions of "the
West," as the term had its application and limita
tion down to within a score or two of years ago, —
that this sketch proposes to treat.

II.

THE MISSIONARY AMONG THE SAVAGES OF SUPERIOR.

THE Ottawa, Menomonee, Chippewa, Illinois,
and other Indian nations inhabiting the regions
bordering upon the waters of Superior and Michi
gan, formed part of the great Algonquin family,
which, having its connecting links through other
intermediate tribes, extended along the line of lakes
to the eastern seaboard, including and terminating
with the powerful clans of the Abenakis in Maine.
Within this belt of territory, and edging upon the
lake which bears their name, lay the possessions
of the Hurons or Wyandots, a people deriving
their lineage and language from the Iroquois, but
bound to the Algonquins, as was inevitable from
their geographical position, by the more reliable
ties of sympathy and interest.

Voyages for the purposes of trade were common
between the Ottawas and the other kindred tribes
of the West, and their allies, the Hurons, of the
East. Straggling parties would make the excur
sion at almost any season of the year, except,
perhaps, in the dead of winter; but the great tours
happened more rarely, and were undertaken when
the months were propitious, offering fain skies, a
(16)

THE JESUIT. 17

genial atmosphere, open water, and the promise of
supplies, in the game and the growth of the woods,
for subsistence on the way. From sixty to a hun
dred or more canoes would gather at some con
venient harbor on Green Bay, or on the Saut Ste.
Marie, into which would be packed the cargoes of
peltries and copper, their chief articles of export,
when the flotilla, manned with some five persons
to each bark, forming altogether quite a numer
ous party, would start upon their voyage. After
the Old World had sent over its colonies to the
New, and the settlements that sprang up on the
seacoast and along the rivers began to exhibit their
superior attractions, these voyages were continued
farther down the St. Lawrence, until at length
Quebec, the frontier town of the French, became
the terminus of the trade. Here the native foresters
could supply themselves at a cheap rate, according
to their estimate of values, with the foreign com
modities that suited their simple tastes, — beads, bits
of glass, ribbons, rings, and the like, — while the
barterers with whom they dealt were disposed to
believe that they had not been outbargained in the
furs and skins received in exchange.

While tarrying at port, social intercourse was
not neglected between dealers and customers, and
while the Frenchman excited the admiration and
taxed the credulity of his visitor with descriptions
of the marvels of his native land, the Indian, am
bitious to maintain his national importance as well,

1 8 BLACK-ROBES.

would reciprocate with stories of the wonders of
the distant interior where he inhabited, — of its
mighty rivers and fresh-water seas, of its illimitable
prairies, and of the populous tribes that filled the
region. Tempted by these representations, Nicolet,
one of the earliest and most adventurous pioneers
of New France, determined upon a voyage of ex
ploration. A ready familiarity with the Algonquin
tongue qualified him peculiarly for the undertaking.
He made the expedition, visiting the "Sea Tribe,"
in the neighborhood of Green Bay, and having
returned, offered his own testimony in confirmation
of the statements made by the native traders.

Among the national festivals of the Algonquins
was one of peculiar solemnity, entitled the Feast
of the Dead, recurring, periodically, every tenth
year, and held at some chosen locality in the
country of the Hurons. On these events, delega
tions from all the tribes, far and near, were accus
tomed to assemble, bearing with them the bones
of their dead of the last decade, dug from their
graves, and brought for final sepulture in the one
common depository consecrated to that use, but
more particularly attracted, no doubt, by the feasts,
the songs and dances, the games, and the torch
light processions which were the ceremonial accom
paniments of the occasion. The period for a
return of this festival happened in 1641, and was
attended, among the rest, by a representation of
Chippewas from the Saut Ste. Marie.

THE JESUIT. I9

The Jesuit missionaries were not slow to take
advantage of so promising an opportunity to urge
the claims of the Faith upon these strange barba
rians. So eloquently did they press their appeals,
and such was their gentle and winning manner, that
they found favor in the eyes of the savages, who
made earnest entreaty that some of their number
should accompany them in the backward voyage
to their lodges in the far land. Ever since the re
turn of Nicolet, several years previously, the good
fathers had contemplated the establishment of a
mission in that quarter, and now that Providence
had opened a way, they promptly and thankfully
accepted the invitation. Preliminarily to a positive
occupation of the ground, Fathers Jogues and
Raymbault were appointed to undertake the jour
ney, explore the country, and fix upon a station.
Coasting Lake Huron in their canoes, after a voyage
of seventeen days, made peculiarly pleasurable by
the charming scenery that skirted their progress,
and the genial summer atmosphere, redolent with
the rich balm of pines, through which they floated,
they arrived on the 4th of July at the Saut, to be
met with the hearty welcome of two thousand
Indians.

The wonders narrated by the old traders at
Quebec were repeated. The missionaries were
told of the great plains that stretched south and
west, away from the lakes, and of the populous
tribes — the Miamis, the Sacs and Foxes, the

20 BLACK-ROBES.

Kickapoos, and the Pottawotamies — by which
they were inhabited. Rumors, too, were rehearsed
of vaster regions lying still farther beyond; of the
river of rivers, — the MESIPI they called it, — that
had its broad course there, and of the Nadowessi,
mighty and terrible, a nation of hunters and of a
thousand warriors, that occupied the land. The
missionaries were rilled with wonder at the recital.
Their hearts overflowed with compassion for the
multitudes living and perishing thus in ignorance,
and instantly would they have committed them
selves to the work of their enlightenment, only
that, as yet, the laborers were too few in the field
of the Hurons, and the successes established there,
through so much toil, too precious, to allow of the
risk to the spiritual perseverance of the newly elect,
that might ensue upon their withdrawal. But there
was to be no final abandonment of the ground.
They tarried for some days, sharing the hospitali
ties of their Chippewa friends, planted a cross on
the site near the river where now stands the Cathe
dral of St. Mary, as the distinguishing emblem of
their creed, and for evidence to such as might
follow that they had been before, and were entitled
to come again, to hold and to possess for the
French and for the Faith, and then, launching their
canoes, they glided out into the rapids of the Ste.
Marie and floated away on their homeward-bound
voyage. They never returned. Raymbault died,
perishing from exposure. Jogues followed ulti-

THE JESUIT. 21

mately, hurried to his reward by the murderous
blow of an Iroquois assassin.

A party of Ottowas, under guidance of a pair of
wandering traders, who, in pursuit of their calling,
some two years before had strayed upon them,
visited the Hurons in 1656, and made request fora
Black-Robe to join them on their return. Two of
the fathers, Leonard Garreau and Gabriel Druil-
letes, — that man of " incomparable charity," — were
accordingly commissioned for that purpose. Upon
starting they took with them a company of French
men, with the view of planting a white settlement
among the natives at the Saut. The attending
Frenchmen, soon wearying of the society of their
savage co-voyageurs, and perhaps not uninfluenced
by a regard for their personal safety, withdrew in
a body from the enterprise. The missionaries were
not to be deterred by the spiritless example of the
deserters, but manfully continued their advance.
Paddling their way against the tide of the river,
they had proceeded as far as the island of Mon
treal, when they were suddenly attacked by a party
of Iroquois, lurking secretly in await for them.
Garreau fell fatally wounded under the first fire.
The Ottowas deserted their canoes and took to the
shore. Here, gathering behind defenses hastily
thrown up, they sheltered themselves until escape
was practicable, when they stole away, abandoning
Druilletes, whom they would not allow to go
with them, to whatever fate might overtake him.

22 BLACK-ROBES.

But when the Jesuit resolved he accomplished.
In his lexicon there was no such word as fail.
Did persecution, armed with tortures, interpose to
prevent him ? He might writhe under its inflictions,
but he would not be hindered. Did certain death
lie visibly before him in the way ? No matter to
the devotee whose daily invocation was that he
might be found worthy, if the reward were not
beyond his desert, to win the crown of martyrdom.

The establishment of the Saut Ste. Marie mis
sion was deferred, but not abandoned, because of
the disaster at Montreal Island. In 1660 another
trading fleet of sixty canoes, laden with the ordi
nary freightage, arrived from Superior at Quebec.
Three hundred Ottowas manned the expedition.
They reiterated the request which had been urged
by their brethren four years before, that a servant
of the " God of the Prayer" should go back with
them on their return. The Superior, Father Lalle-
mand, listened to their prayer, and cast his eyes
around to find the fitting candidate for the em
bassy. Among the enlisted in the sacerdotal ser
vice was a veteran, who, in earlier years, had toiled
with Brebeuf, Jo*gues, Gamier, and Bressani, of
saintly remembrance, and participated in all their
trying experiences, save only the last, by which
their earthly connection had been severed. ' Hard
service had done its equal share with the frosts of
fifty-six winters to whiten his hair, and the keen-
edged weapons of his enemies had left their deeper

THE JESUIT. 23

grooves than the well-marked furrows of time, on
his cheek. Sixteen years' devotion to it had not
diminished his ardor in the cause to which he was
plighted. His physical frame, constitutionally
delicate, would have rendered him incompetent for
missionary duty, save that its energies, through a
severe and uninterrupted process of discipline, had
been trained to extraordinary endurance. His man
ners were those of a rarely accomplished, highly
polished Christian gentleman. He was zealous in
his Master's cause, but his zeal was of a temperate
type, kept evenly quick and warm by the ""live
coals," rather than stimulatively ardent by the fitful-
flashes from off the altar.

Rene Menard was the man for the post. If the
Superior, after having indicated his choice, hesitated
on account of the age and infirmities of the priest
to confirm it, "Fear not," said the worthy asso
ciate of the old martyrs. " He who feeds the young
raven, and clothes the lily of the field, will take
care of his servants." The venerable father was
nominated, and forthwith started upon the mission.

The savage traders had been liberal in their
offers of kind treatment. No sooner had they got
fairly under way with their fleet, however, than the
native treachery of their hearts began to betray
itself. Indignities were heaped upon the gray-
headed priest, especially by Le Brochet, a principal
chief of the party, whose example failed not to
provoke a like behavior on the part of his inferiors.

24 BLACK-ROBES

He was made to perform their most menial services.
He was compelled to toil at the oar from dawn till
dark, and to contribute his more than equal share
in the transportation of their burdens at the port
ages. He was forbidden-his accustomed devotions ;
made the object of mockery and derision; robbed
of his breviary, which the ruffianly wretches hurled
into the water; yet patiently he endured it all, "and
like a lamb dumb before his shearer, so opened he
not his mouth." Famine overtook the party on
its way, when all were reduced to the extremity
of subsisting on berries, barks, roots, acorns, and
the tripe de roche, a woodland moss, gathered as
they might find it, here and there, on the rocks.

Arrived at the Saut at last, the Indians cast the
unhappy missionary ashore, and left him provision-
less, shelterless, barefooted, and with only the tat
ters of his threadbare robe for protection against
the weather. Yet the soul of the heroic old man
did not fail him. As of wont, his daily orisons
ascended to heaven. As of wont, his lips gave
breath to praise, the recesses of the woods waken
ing as they had never wakened before, to the
strange song of the New Adoration, — the Salve
Regina, — and the floods clapping their hands to
the glad music of the Ave Mans Stella. For
several days he was reduced for sustenance to
the use of dry bones . crushed to a coarse powder
between stones and thus made edible. Some of
his red-skin companions at length relented, sought

THE JESUIT. 25

him out, and conducted him to where their wig
wams were pitched, miles away at Keweenaw Bay.
Upon their extermination as a tribe, in 1649, by
the Iroquois, a crippled remnant of the Hurons
took refuge with the Ottowas. Ten years' exposure
to the old superstitions may have dimmed, but had
not obliterated, the religious impressions of these
unfortunate exiles. As soon as Father Rene ap
peared among them, these sheep of the old flock
gathered fondly about him, and with the stray
wanderers of the scattered cote of St. Mary's on
the Wye, he formed the nucleus of a new fold at
St. Theresa's Bay, — as designated by him, — on
Lake Superior. Such was the establishment of
the first permanent mission in the Far West. Me-
nard was not to be allowed, without dispute, to
administer to the spiritual wants of his flock. The
Ottowa people, under unworthy example of their
chiefs, who were violent in their opposition to the
faith of "the Prayer," drove the pious father from
their cabins. He constructed for himself a rude
shelter of fir-branches, through which the winds
had almost unobstructed passage, and this was his
lodge through the long, bitter months of a north
ern winter, — this his only protection against its
storms, and snows, and cold. His labors were
limited to the sick and equally suffering with him
self among the unfriendly tribe, but were not
without their recompense. Several baptisms are
mentioned among the fruits of his efforts.

26 BLACK-ROBES.

In the spring, having learned of a group of
refugee VVyandots, inhabiting an island in Green
Bay, he determined upon a visit to that quarter.
The route was ascertained to be an exceedingly
difficult and dangerous one. His friends advised
him against the undertaking. "God calls me
thither," he replied. " I must go if it cost me my
life." Embarking in a canoe accordingly, attended
by his proved friend the Donne, John Guerin,
together with a small party of Hurons, he started
upon the hazardous voyage. The way was long,
following the devious current of the Menomonee,
and laborious from the many crossings overland
necessary, in order to avoid the various rapids in
the river. Before having proceeded very far, the
Indians, with accustomed infidelity, deserted the
missionaries, who with wonted perseverance, how
ever, continued to press on. At one of the portages,
Guerin started in advance of his aged companion.
The latter, with a dubious trail to follow, drifted
out of the true course and lost his way. Guerin,
more fortunate, made the crossing successfully, and
awaited anxiously the arrival of the priest. He
never appeared. Diligent search was made for
him. The bag he' carried, his breviary, and por
tions of his apparel were found long afterwards in
the huts of some of the savages, but never a trace
of the body of the missionary. Rene Menard, the
last surviving of the Fathers in the Faith who had
been first to bear the tidings of Redemption to the

THE JESUIT. 27

barbarians of the New World, had followed, by the
same path whither they had gone, and the com
pany of apostles on earth stood again complete as
the circle of martyrs in Paradise.

But the Cross had been planted in the soil of the
tribes on the Great Lake, and it was not to be
abandoned. Claudius Allouez was appointed to
fill the place made vacant by the loss of the ven
erable Rene. He accepted the commission cheer
fully, joined the Ottowa flotilla at Montreal, in the
summer of 1665, and by the month of September
was in his allotted field of labor. His first tarry-
ing-point was at the bay of St. Theresa, where he
was met and welcomed by some of the native con
verts of Menard. Thence he coasted along the
lake, until, early in October, he had reached the
charming bay of Chegoimegon. Here he encoun
tered an assemblage of savages, representing the
various clans of Algonquins, gathered in from their
several cantons along the coast, and wrought up to a
high pitch of enthusiasm, in view of a contemplated
descent upon the encampments of their common
enemy, the Sioux. The priest looked on with
feelings of painful regret. It was a matter of prime
importance for his purpose that the martial fever
should be quieted, and, if possible, the threatened
warfare obviated. While the more youthful war
riors, therefore, with their battle-songs and dances,
were busy adding fuel to the fire of excitement,
the prudent missionary invited their elders apart,

28 BLACK-ROBES.

— the sachems and experienced veterans of the
clans, — and labored to convince them of the inex
pediency of the proposed adventure. His counsels
prevailed, and the undertaking was abandoned.

Allouez then built a chapel, on a spot which he
designated as La Pointe du Saint Esprit, and thus
prepared himself for the opening of his work among
the tribes.

The difficulties which he had to encounter were
many, and hard to overcome. The superstitions
of the Indian — dear to him as the traditional in
heritance of his fathers — were most to his choice,
moreover, because their mysteries, of a type in
their sublimation with the real circumstances of
his life, lay within the range and aptitude of his
unsophisticated habits of thinking. His objects
of worship had to be plainly visible somehow, in
the shadow at least, if not in the substance. The
idea of a spirit imperceptible to sense, and uniden
tified with some special feature or other of nature,
such as the sun, the winds, the water, the woods,
was one beyond his grasp of comprehension.
When the missionary, therefore, undertook to tear
to pieces the structure of the old religion, he had
the prejudices, firmly rooted as the growth of ages
in a congenial soil could make them, to contend
against; while when, on the other hand, he sought
to substitute a knowledge of the faith of his Mas
ter, he encountered the harder task of attempting
to build up without the material for reconstruction,

THE JESUIT. 29

— the language of the savage being destitute of
terms to represent the abstractions of his creed.

Then there were the social and domestic usages
to correct; favorite practices not inconsistent with
the native conception of morality, but • scarcely
comporting with the ethics of the new doctrine.
Marriage, in its sacramental sense, was an unknown
institution among the people, Man and woman,
with perhaps a gift of wampum passed between
them, — as a "consideration" for the longer or
shorter term of accommodation that might follow,
rather than as the pledge of a permanent compact,
— would take to the same wigwam, but the relation
thus contracted might be dissolved at any time as
caprice decided, and either, or both, of the parties
remain at liberty to enter into new alliances upon
the same convenient terms. When the pair thus
associating happened to have outlived the ardencies
of youth, they usually kept up the companionship
for years, — perhaps for life; but this fidelity was
maintained from motives of convenience commonly
rather than from tenderness of attachment, the
woman acting pretty much in the capacity of slave,
hoeing the corn, cracking the hominy, and attend
ing generally to the domestic drudgery, while the
man, making his amusements his occupation, pro
vided the luxuries of the chase for the larder, or
"filled his red-stone pipe for smoking," and took
his ease in his cabin.

Polygamy, besides, was prevalent. Indeed, their
3*

3o BLACK-ROBES.

customs — and their customs were their law — al
lowed the almost unrestricted indulgence of desire,
and their grossness in this respect was so open, so
shameless, so abominable, that the very brutes that
roamed their forests were paragons of decency in
comparison.

But Father Allouez did not despair of his mission.
The chapel which he had erected, the novel ap
pointments of its interior, the unaccustomed ser
vices, and the strange doctrines of the new religion,
all combined to excite the curiosity of the natives;
and from far and near, Nepissings and Kikapoos,
Saulteurs and Pottawottamies, they gathered in to
see the Black-Robe, and to listen to the marvelous
tidings which he proclaimed. His attention being
invited to these various tribes, he undertook a pil
grimage through their several territories, distribut
ing his lessons of counsel and instruction in all
their villages. As the fruit of his first winter's
labor he was able to report the baptism of eighty-
four subjects, principally children, but including
several adults. Having continued at his work
through two years, he returned to Quebec, tarried
for two days, reported to his Superior, laid in a
small stock of such supplies as were more press-
ingly needed at his Western post, engaged the
services of an assistant, Father Louis Nicholas, and
turned his face again towards Chegoimegon.

In his old field once more, Allouez applied him
self with new industry to his labors. Missions

THE JESUIT. 31

were permanently established among the Ottowas,
Chippewas, and Nepissings. But his efforts were
not restricted to these tribes. He established his
posts in the communities of the Miamis ; built his
oratories of mats and bark among 4:he Sacs and
Winnebagoes ; and thus, season by season, migrated
from scene to scene, until the news of redemption
had been declared to twenty-five tribes, and eighty
souls had been gathered by baptism into the fold
of Christ. The Kiskakons, as a nation, under his
preaching, adopted the faith of the Cross. From
Lapointe Allouez proceeded to Green Bay, and his
first mass being celebrated on the festival of St.
Francis Xavier, the post was designated by that
title. From that point as a centre he kept up an
active intercourse with the various tribes of the
region, explained the mysteries of the Prayer,
opened chapels for instruction, waited upon the
sick, and discharged the practical duties of his
office in such a manner as secured the confidence
of the natives, gave force to his influence, and
aided him materially in the profitable prosecution
of his labors. Hundreds were baptized, including
chiefs and others of the distinguished among the
people, some of whom, like Kekakoung, a con
verted Kiskakon, became preachers themselves of
the creed of their adoption. Our Father, translated
into their tongue, grew to be the familiar prayer
of the wigwam, and Kyrie Eleison the accustomed
chant at their devotions. Schools were instituted,

32 BLACK-ROBES.

where the children were taught the form of worship,
and indoctrinated in the rudimentary elements of
the Christian confession.

After the death of Marquette, Allouez, in 1676,
went, under commission, to the Illinois tribe, to
fill the place of that deceased missionary. He
reached their territory in April, and at once took
possession of the quarters which had been occupied
by his illustrious predecessor. Since Marquette's
time the population, gathered in from their tempo
rary migrations, had multiplied materially, so that
where he had found but one race and seventy-four
cabins, his successor discovered three hundred and
fifty-one lodges, accommodating eight tribes. On
the day of the Feast of the Invention of the Holy
Cross, the missionary planted a model of the em
blem appropriate to the day, twenty-five feet high,
which continued to stand long years afterwards as
a monument to his zeal and enterprise. With oc
casional intervals, Allouez remained with this people
till 1679, when, relinquishing the charge, he re
turned to Mascoutens.

III.

MARQUETTE, HIS COTEMPORARIES AND SUCCESSORS,
AND WHAT THEY ACCOMPLISHED.

IN the spring of 1668, James Marquette, accom
panied by Le Boesme, a worthy brother of the
Order of Jesus, took boat at Quebec and launched
out upon the long journey to the Northwest.
After the usual voyage along the romantic coast
of Lake Huron, accomplished without incident
worthy of mention, the reverend adventurers, en
tering the Saut Ste. Marie, and winding their course
amid the isles that gem its channel, reached their
point of destination, and disembarked on its
southern shore, at the foot of the rapids. Here
they erected a station, and, without delay, Mar
quette commenced the exercise of his priestly
functions. His fame had preceded him in that
distant wilderness, so that the savages poured in
from every quarter to hear him. The assemblies
that gathered at the summons for services were
large, attentive, and apparently interested, so that
sanguine expectations were entertained of fruitful
results to his labor. But his hopes were not to be
realized. Curiosity — their chief attracting motive —
once gratified, his hearers gradually dropped off",

(33)

34

BLACK-ROBES.

or, if they lingered, betrayed no evidence of any
impression that might be regarded as profitable or
hopeful. Despairing of success, he determined to
change his scene of operations, and accordingly, in
the early autumn of the year following, removed to
the mission opened by Allouez, at Lapointe, after a
weary and try ing passage of thirty days' continuance,
made through desolate reaches of snow and ice.
The inhabitants of two of the villages which were
planted in the neighborhood, old converts of the
Hurons in exile, received him kindly. Long
estrangement from the influence of enlightened
teachers had caused the decay of religion among
them, and a partial relapse into the old supersti
tions ; but, although not without opposition, es
pecially from the tribes of adjoining settlements,
the lost ground was speedily recovered.

Marquette had listened to the legends that were
told of the river of incgmparable magnitude that
rolled away to the west, and of the formidable
nation — the Dacotahs — that swarmed the vast
lands beyond. The spirit of adventure stirred
sympathetically in his bosom with the zeal of the
religieuse, and he resolved that, so soon as oppor
tunity pointed the way, he would meet its hazards
and put the rumor to the proof. The Winnebagoes,
P *ribe of the Dacotahs, and the only one east of the
Mississippi, occupied the region bordering on the
western extremity of Lake Superior. As a helpful
preliminary to the grand project held in view, the

THE JESUIT. 35

missionary was anxious to secure the friendly favor
of this people, and opened up negotiations which
he hoped would result in an invitation to visit
them; but, when on the eve of accomplishment, his
plans were suddenly foiled. « Some treachery of the
Hurons offended their neighbors, and gave rise to a
war which eventuated in their forced retreat to the
quarter formerly occupied by them at Mackinaw.
Marquette was compelled to retire with his friends.
Here, amid the group of cabins in the new settle
ment, he erected a chapel and established the
mission of St. Ignatius. But the spot was a dreary,
inhospitable one, and offered indifferent prospect
of good to be accomplished.

While yet at Lapointe, the eminent father had
taken advantage of the presence of a prisoner from
that tribe to have himself instructed in the dialect
of the Illinois. That nation, an extensive and
powerful one, occupied the country lying between
Lake Michigan and the Mississippi River, contigu
ous to the territory of the Dacotahs on the west,
and, save by the partial interposition of the Miami
district, reaching between the southern limit of
Lake Michigan and Lake Erie, by the Iroquois on
the east, both dreaded enemies, between the oppo
site pressure of which they were doomed to be
finally crushed out of existence. Defeated in his
original plan of opening up a way of approach to
the Dacotahs, or Sioux, through the Winnebagoes,
Marqu ?tte determined to make the trial by a more

36 BLA CK-R OBES.

southerly route through the territory of the Illinois.
Accordingly, as early as was practicable in the
spring of 1673, armed for his only defense with
cross, beads, and breviary, he turned his face
towards the setting sun, and started forth upon his
enterprise. Mascoutens was the first point of attain
ment fixed upon, but finding the place deserted, he
resumed his course, pushing westwardly until
striking the Wisconsin, he embarked upon its
waters in a canoe, and committing himself to the
protection of the Blessed Virgin Immaculate, com
menced his voyage. Day after day his frail craft
glided on with the flow, of the current ; distance
after distance, traced lingeringly along the winding
channel of the stream, was measured, until, after a
week of time and one hundred and twenty miles
of progress, on the memorable i/th of June the
mouth of the tributary was reached, and the suc
cessful explorer found himself afloat on the broad
bosom of the Mississippi.

Upon his return from that distinguished adven
ture, instead of retracing his course by the Wis
consin, he struck into the Illinois, and ascended
that river until having reached a settlement of the
Peorias he decided, at their earnest solicitation, to
tarry a few days in their town. He next pro
ceeded to the Kaskaskias, another clan of the Illi
nois, who received him with a welcome so cordial
that he promised, as soon as possible, to revisit
their village and establish a mission there. After

THE JESUIT. 37

a brief stay with this hospitable people, amply re
warded by the privilege of conferring the rite of
baptism upon a dying child, he bade them an
affectionate adieu, and having crossed the inter
vening prairie, returned by lake to Mackinaw.

The severe exposures to which he had been sub
jected in this expedition told seriously upon the
health of the enterprising missionary. He had been
attacked with dysentery in his travels. Resisting
the remedies applied for its correction, the disease
assumed a chronic type, and was rapidly wearing
away his strength. That his end was approaching
was painfully evident. But the purpose upon which
he was bent was not to be thwarted by any hinder-
ance short of death. Had he not pledged himself
to the benighted Kaskaskian savages that he would
return to declare to them the glad news of Re
demption? Let consequences happen as they
might, the promise must be made good.

Thirteen months after his arrival at Mackinaw,
in the month of October, suffering painfully still
from his malady, but with a spirit active and
unyielding as ever, he set out upon the arduous
undertaking. Winter overtook him on the way,
and impeded by the ice which had closed up the
Chicago River, he was compelled to suspend
progress, comforting himself as he best could with
such protection as a rude hut, put up by his own
hands, might afford against the inclemencies of the
season. With the opening of the river in the early

4

38 BLACK-ROBES.

spring he resumed his way, reaching his destina
tion at length on the 8th of April. After having
spent some time in passing from lodge to lodge,
instructing the inmates separately in the Faith, he
invited them to assemble in a body at an appointed
place, near at hand, on the prairie. Here he
erected an altar to the "Unknown God," and
before an eager audience of over two thousand
hearers, "declared Him unto them."

At this newly-established mission Marquette
continued his labors for some two weeks, when,
with his health utterly shattered, and under a self-
conviction now that " the time of his departure
was at hand," he decided to return to Mackinaw,
that he might die there, cheered in the " putting
on of immortality" by the familiar presence of his
brethren. Many of the Indians, to whom he had
endeared himself by his amiable and unselfish ex
ample, accompanied him on the way, bidding him
adieu, reluctantly and with their warmest expres
sions of sympathy, as, with his pair of associates,
he took his canoe, launched from the beach, and
glided away along the eastern and hitherto un-
traversed coast of Lake Michigan. As they made
advance by day, he reclined painfully, but uncom
plainingly, in the narrow confinement of his frail
vessel. At night he was carried ashore and laid
to rest on the ground, with the moss, gathered from
the decaying forest-wood, for his couch, and the
leaves of the living trees for his covering. And so

THE JESUIT. 39

they journeyed on. As near high noon of a beau
tiful day in May they approached a river, which
empties about midway of its length into Lake
Michigan, he ordered his oarsmen to pause, and
indicating an elevated spot on the river-shore, he
said that there was to be his grave. His com
panions urged him to let them take advantage of
the .propitious weather and row on, but he refused,
and was carried to the land. " Say adieu to my
Superiors," he whispered, as they laid him gently
on the ground, the dews of death settling on his
brow the while. " Bid farewell to my fellow-dis
ciples of the Faith. As for yourselves, you are
weary — rest; I shall never forget you." Then
lifting his eyes to heaven, he murmured, devoutly,
" Sustinuit anima mea in verba ejus, — Mater Dei,
memento meiT After an hour of silent commu
nion with God, he solemnly repeated the Creed,
thanked the Almighty that he was permitted to die
in that distant solitude, a brother of the Order of
Jesus, and a victim of his devotion to the Cross.
Then, with the name of his Redeemer on his lips,
he bowed his head and gave up the ghost. His
body was buried as he directed, — on the bluff by
the shore of the river that is known by his name.
His companions erected a rude cross over the spot
of his interment, where, after a fervent appeal for
his saintly intercession with God in their behalf,
they left him to his rest.

Two years later a party of Kiskakons, members

40 BLACK-ROBES.

of his old charge, dug up the missionary's bones,
and, joined on the way by canoe-loads of Iroquois,
bore them with religious care to the station at
Mackinaw. Here they were met by the villagers
of the place, led in a body by the priests Pierson
and Nouvel, who, to the chant of De Profundis,
landed the remains, and with becoming ceremony
bore them to the chapel for final burial. Gabriel
Richard, a Sulpitian, stationed long years after
wards at Detroit, who was a deputy to Congress,
and who enjoys the higher reputation of having
established the first printing-press in Michigan,
visiting the locality where Marquette had died, and
where he presumed his relics still to be, raised on
the spot a wooden cross, and with his penknife
carved upon it the inscription, —

"FR. JH. MARQUET
Died here 9th May, 1675."

This is the only monument which has ever been
reared to his memory; but the fame of his name
cannot perish from history, nor the renown of his
sanctity from the traditions of the faith which he
so nobly exemplified and so brilliantly adorned.

Father Druilletes, a veteran apostle of the Jesu
its, stands conspicuous among the distinguished
missionaries of the Northwest. He enjoyed a
special reputation because of the marked sanctity
of his life. During the prevalence of an epidemic
among the Indians, miraculous cures were accred-

THE JESUIT. 4I

ited to him, which at once established for him a
name and an authority highly potent and influen
tial. Under his administration the Indians of the
Ste. Marie were, as a nation, converted to Chris
tianity. The decree enunciatory of this revolution
in their form of faith was issued on the nth of
October, 1670. "The God of the Prayer," said
the declaration, "is the Master of life;" and the
young men, walking the streets of the village, pro
claimed, "The Saut prays; the Saut is Christian."
A twelvemonth's service was rewarded with the
baptism of three hundred subjects. His miracu
lous power operated materially in his favor. Very
many, influenced by that distinguishing proof of
more than common virtue, were led to conviction.
Polygamy was renounced ; other depraved vices
were abandoned; the medicine-men were repudi
ated; the children were, brought to receive the
benediction of the priests; the first fruits of their
gathering were laid at the altar of the New God ;
and when starting upon the war-path, — that emer
gency which, in view of its hazardous contingencies,
is the best test of true religious conviction, — their
prayers were now addressed to the Divinity of the
Black-Robe.

A party of Sioux came to the Saut, in 1674, to
negotiate a peace with the Algonquins at that
place. At a council held at the mission-house to
discuss the measures in dispute between the tribes,
a member of the conference, becoming excited,
4*

42 BLACK-ROBES.

sprang up, drew his knife, and brandished it defi
antly in the face of a Dacotah. Angered at the
outrage, the Sioux leaped to his feet, drew a blade
from his hair, — the usual place of carrying that
weapon, — shouted his war-cry, which immediately
called his clansmen about him, rushed upon the
Algonquins and drove them from the house. The
expelled party retaliated by setting the building
on fire. The Sioux ambassadors were all burned
to death. This was a severe blow to the missionary.
His chapel and his home were reduced to ashes.
The Dacotahs were enraged, the Algonquins ex
posed to continual chastisements from their ene
mies, so that betwixt the aggressions of the one
and the reprisals of the other there was little space
left for the cultivation of spiritual grace. But
Druilletes continued at his work, not without profit,
until, after a long and faithful service, "broken by
age, hardship, and infirmity," he returned to Que
bec, where a few months afterwards he died.

During a suspension of the labors of Allouez
among the Illinois, brought about by the visit of
La Salle, who entertained little regard for his order,
and less for this particular brother of the Jesuits,
Fathers Gabriel de la Ribourde, Zenobfus Membre,
and Louis Hen-nepin of the Recollects, who had
accompanied the celebrated explorer on his expe
dition, opened a mission, in 1679, at Peoria. They
vvere anxious to acquire the language of the natives,
and, at the same time, as far as possible, to pro-

THE JESUIT. 43

mote the spiritual aim of their mission. For both
these purposes, having been adopted into the fami
lies of two of the chiefs, they had every facility ; but,
greatly to their discouragement, the dialect was
beyond their skill of acquisition, and the people
seemed to be wedded to their idols irreclaimably.
Baptism was administered to a dying warrior, but
almost before the priest had retired from the per
formance of the rite, the old superstition resumed its
sway, and the chieftain expired an apostate amid
the incantations of his own medicine-men. Father
Membre despaired utterly. In hope of accomplish
ing some good, he shifted the scene of his opera
tions to another neighborhood, only to meet with
like disappointment. Still, he and his colaborers
toiled on, however, until hostilities broke out be
tween the Illinois and the Iroquois, which resulted
in the dispersion of the former. The missionaries,
left without protection, decided to return to Green
Bay. On the way, encountering an accident as they
floated along the Illinois River, they got ashore,
two of the party tarrying to repair a damage to their
canoe, while the other, old Father Gabriel, walked
some distance apart to repeat his breviary. While
thus engaged, he was surprised by a raiding band
of Kikapoos, and mercilessly murdered. After a
fruitless search for him, his associates resumed
their voyage, and finally reached Green Bay in
safety. Thus began, and so disastrously ended,
the Mission of the Recollects among the Illinois.

44 BLACK-ROBES.

The Jesuits determined to reoccupy the field from
which they had retired in favor of the Recollects,
and accordingly, in the spring of 1692, and in the
person of Sebastien Rale, the mission at Peoria
was reopened. Upon his arrival the excellent
father was greeted cordially by the Indians of the
various villages. They attended worship respect
fully; they sent their children to receive instruc
tion; the Prayer found favor in their eyes, and the
morals taught in the articles of the new creed met
with undivided approval, — all save the doctrine, so
universally distasteful, that the man must be the
husband of but one wife. They would not repudi
ate polygamy. Two years' toil was productive of
little profit, and Rale, abandoning the field, with
drew to his original charge among the Abenakis
in Main?.

James Gravier, who had previously made a pass
ing visit to the post, returned to supply the vacancy
created by the retirement of Rale. The labors of
his predecessors, although unsuccessful on the
whole, had not b&~n expended entirely in vain.
About fifty Peorians and Kaskaskias were either
converts or favorably inclined towards Christianity,
but the large majority were devoted to the super
stitions of their fathers. The forms of chapel-
service had been maintained by the faithful with
due observance since the departure of Rale, a
venerable chief assuming the priestly vicarship for
the time, — himself making the tour of the village,

THE JESUIT. 45

morning and evening, to invite the attendance of
worshipers. Deprived of a competent spiritual
leader, however, and exposed to the active an
tagonism of the medicine-men, there was imminent
risk of an early relapse into heathenism. This
native school of prophets had witnessed with alarm
the progress of a confession which, once accepted,
must prove ruinous to their occupation, and, un
happily countenanced by the licentious soldiery of
the French fort close by, were using their best
endeavors to arrest its further advance. It was,
therefore, with feeling of joyful gratitude that the
handful of persevering neophytes hailed the arrival
of the missionary. The prophets immediately
organized in array against this their new and for
midable adversary. They assailed him with mis
representation, mockery, and maltreatment. They
ridiculed the ceremonies of his office; they charged
that his charities were but mischiefs in disguise;
that his rosaries were charms for pernicious prac
tices; that the baptismal water was a distillation
of venom, which it was death to be bedewed with,
and — an epidemic having begun to prevail among
them — that he had created the infection, relief
from which could only be had through his expul
sion from their village. Nevertheless, the patient
but fearless father continued to labor on, sustained
by the consciousness of fulfilling his duty, if not
comforted by the results attending his efforts But
the day of recompense was at hand.

46 BLACK-ROBES.

Michael Ako, a Frenchman, who had served
with Hennepin in his Upper Mississippi voyage of
exploration, withdrew from his comrades on their
return, and retired to Peoria, where he remained,
conducting a small but lucrative trade at that
settlement. He was a man of unquestionable
energy, but notoriously profligate in his habits.
Among his associates at the fort he enjoyed the
distinction of an intimacy with the chief of the
Kaskaskias. This chief had a daughter, most at
tractive, as attraction ran among the dusky maidens
of the villages, who, having been reared under
training of the priests, and in the clearer illumina
tion of the True Light than was vouchsafed to her
sisterhood of the clans, had knelt at the Cross and
offered her vows at the shrine of the Beautiful
Devotion. The libertine Ako met the lovely
Kaskaskian, was captivated by her charms, and
solicited her hand in marriage of her father. The
sachem, gratified with the proposal, promptly in
dicated his approval; but Mary, when the suit of
her lover was preferred, declined the overture. She
had heard how the virgins of the French, who
were ardent in the faith, were wont to renounce all
meaner attachments, and banded together in seclu
sion from the world, to expend their lives, for
Christ's sake and that of the Blessed Mother of
Purity, in works of charity and mercy. Stirred by
their generous example, she had determined upon
a like dedication of herself. The father, angered

THE JESUIT. 47

at her refusal, tore the clothing from her person,
and drove her naked from his lodge into the street.
Then convoking a council of the chiefs, he made
known his grievance, charged the responsibility of
it on the French missionary, and asked, and
obtained, an order prohibiting attendance at his
services. But the priest fearlessly threw open the
doors of his chapel, and the few whose fealty had
stood the test of similar proscriptions before, and
who were not to be intimidated now, followed to
the sanctuary according to custom, in defiance of
the prohibition. The disaffected then attempted
to blockade the approaches to the chapel; and
finally, finding even that expedient ineffectual, one
of the leaders rushed into the building, brandishing
his tomahawk, and threatening death to all unless
they instantly withdrew. Gravier stood firmly at
his post; not one of his flock manifesting the
slightest disposition to desert him, until abashed
by their behavior, the intruder had withdrawn.
The garrison at the fort, instead of offering that
protection to the missionary which the common
sympathies of race and religion ought to have
commanded, joined with the savages in their abuse
and violence.

While the feud was still raging, the chief's
daughter herself interposed, waited upon Father
Gravier, and offered that if the surrender might
quiet the disturbance of the people, she was willing,
with his permission, to forego her choice and sub-

48 BLACK-ROBES.

mit to the proposed sacrifice. " If I consent to the
marriage," said she, " my father will listen to you,
and induce the rest to do so. I desire to please
God, and will yield for love of Him." The mis
sionary gave his approval, and, " more a victim
than a bride," Ako led the Kaskaskian maiden to
the altar.

This episode in the domestic life of the chief,
which threatened while it lasted the very exist
ence of the mission, proved, in the end, the most
fortunate incident that could have happened. The
bride of Ako, a young woman of more than ordi
nary force of character, was conscientious and
earnest in her convictions. The impressions which
had resulted in her conversion, while keenly defined
on the sensitive surface, were deeply stamped as
well into the very substance of her heart ; so that
with more than the enthusiasm, as was natural, of
her priestly teachers, she had all of their depth and
determination of feeling. What was denied to her
as a novice in a convent, she undertook as a wife
in a wigwam, enforcing persuasively the claims of
religion as she had opportunity. Ako was the
first to succumb to her influence, and, from the
profligate that he had been, was reformed into a
model of piety. Her father followed next, and the
bitter agent of persecution became, like Saul of
Tarsus, the vigorous champion of the faith.

A great feast was prepared, to which the leading
men of the villages of the clan were invited. The

THE JESUIT. 49

chief arose in their midst, and, expressing contri
tion for past offenses, declared openly his renun
ciation of heathenism, calling upon his guests to
go and do likewise. While the chief counseled
the men, the young wife exhorted the women.
The force of their leader's example, and of his
daughter's eloquence, did not fail of effect. Gravier
devoted himself to the instruction of his now willing
hearers. Mary, taking for her themes the pictures
which the priests had provided, and by which she
had been taught herself, — pictures illustrative of
interesting passages in the life of Jesus, — told over
the touching stories which they represented, — the
story of the birth in the manger at Bethlehem,
of the opening of the eyes of the Blind Beggar of
Jericho, of the raising of the Dead Man of Bethany,
of the Cross, and of the Resurrection. Her clan-
folk listened, wondered, and relented. Men and
women began to pray ; children laid aside their
implements of play, and, wandering by in groups,
sang the hymns which the missionary composed
for them, in the streets of the village, so that within
the space of eight months this gracious awakening
resulted in the baptism of two hundred and six souls.
Gravier remained at, and in the neighborhood
of, Peoria until 1699, when he was recalled to
Mackfnaw. The next year he made the voyage
of the Mississippi, following it to its mouth.
Thence he returned to his station on the Illinois,
resumed his labors, roused again, unluckily, the

5

50 BLACK-ROBES.

hostility of the medicine-men, and in a fray excited
by these antagonists, received a severe wound, from
the effects of which he died.

The first attempts at the erection of a mission in
Southern Michigan, according to the testimony of
the few of the tribe of the Pottawottamies still to
be found on the spot, was made, perhaps, as early
as 1675. The successful achievement of the pro
ject was accomplished in 1680. Father Allouez,
in that year, attended by Dablon, after having
coasted Lake Michigan from Green Bay, entered
the St. Joseph River, so called in honor of the
patron saint of Canada, and making advance against
its tide, proceeded until, some twenty-five miles
(fifty by the river) from its mouth, he reached the
locality now the seat of the inviting town of Niles.
About half a mile up-stream from the heart of the
town — a narrow belt of boggy lowland lying be
tween it and the river — rises a semicircular bluff,
at the base of which, and through the soil of the
marshy level, runs a brook which empties its slen
der contribution of supply into the St. Joseph. On
this bluff, up till within twenty-five years since, if
not now, the traces were plainly distinguishable of
a fortification, the cross planted at the time of its
construction, and still to be seen, in the rear of it,
indicating by whom, and for what use, it waS built.
Here, conveniently established between an encamp
ment of Miamis on one side of the river, and three
several settlements — one at Pokegan, a second on

THE JESUIT. 51

the shores of what are now known as the Notre
Dame Lakes, and the third and principal one, close
by the fort — of the Pottawottamies on the other,
Allouez built a chapel (a brewery occupies the site
now), and near by, a log cabin for his own accommo
dation. His labors were carried on successfully, and
without the occurrence of any extraordinary event
to invest them with special interest. After a faith
ful service of several years, he died in the summer
of 1690. His ashes repose in the graveyard of the
Catholic mission at Niles. The establishment was
kept up, part of the time under the ministry of
Chardon, " a man wonderful, in the gift of tongues,
speaking fluently nearly all the Indian languages
of the Northwest," until 1759. In that year the
French 'garrison of Fort St. Joseph was attacked
by a party of English soldiers, the engagement re
sulting, after a fierce contest, in the defeat of the
French. The survivors of the garrison, including
the priests, were carried away, prisoners, to Quebec.
The mission, thus violently dissolved, was not re
organized for nearly a hundred years. In 1830,
Father Stephen Badin pitched his tent in the
vicinity, revived the faith among the Pottawotta
mies, built a chapel on the little St. Mary's Lake,
near South Bend, bought a section of land, which,
conveyed to the Bishop of Vincennes, through him
was dedicated, in the interests of education, to the
church, and is now the seat of that notable institu
tion of learning — the University of Notre Dame.

52 BLACK-ROBES.

We have noticed the labors of the earliest, and
most prominent, of the Jesuit fathers concerned in
the leading missionary movements of the North
west. These distinguished pioneers were not left
to struggle alone. As the exigencies of service
called, willing hearts were ready to respond, and
recruit after recruit followed until the Black-Robe
became a presence common and familiar among
the tribes of the region. While Marest and Gui-
gnas penetrated the vast wastes west of Lake Supe
rior, and bordering on the Mississippi, proclaiming
redemption to the Sioux, Mermet made his pil
grimage across the intervening prairies, and planted
the standard of faith, where a colony of Mascoutens
had formed a lodgment, on the banks of the Ohio.
While Louis Andre made his canoe his habitation,
and visited, one by one in regular circuit, the vil
lages clustering around Green Bay, Aubert toiled
amid the snow-fields bordering upon the bound
aries of the Far Northwest, — how faithfully, and
at what sacrifice, the Indians tarrying there to-day
attest, as they lead the visitor to an island in the
Lake of the Woods, and, repeating the melancholy
story of his end, point out the blood-stained rock
on which he was slaughtered.

Thus by the feet, the beautiful feet of them that
bring glad tidings of good things, were borne the
messages of the gospel. Thus did the energetic
Jesuit press his ministry, till not a village, — not a
camp, on plain or water-course, where flitting clans-

THE JESUIT. 53

men pitched their tents, while through a summer's
noon, or a winter's, they followed the chase or
dipped their nets in quest of food, — not a wigwam
in all the wilderness was left in which his presence
was not known, and where his spiritual counsels
were not heard.

IV.

THE LEGEND OF THE DEFEAT OF THE ERIES.

THAT portion of the West, including the
meadows and uplands watered and drained
by the upper Ohio and its tributaries, seems, down
to a comparatively recent date, to have been, almost
entirely, an uninhabited waste, ranged over, no
doubt, in their hunting tours, by bands of Indians
from the north, but without a fixed population of
its own. Of these game-seeking adventurers, those
that frequented the valleys and hills of the Alle-
ghany River were likely of the Iroquois tribe, while
the wider extent of territory lying to the west, most
probably, constituted the sporting-ground of the
Eries. The settlements of the Iroquois clustered
along the Mohawk Valley and about the several
lakes, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Seneca, in
New York, while those of the Eries, beginning
5*

54 BLACK-ROBES.

with Tu-shu-wa, which occupied the site of the
present city of Buffalo, extended westward along
the whole length of the southern shore of the lake
that bears their name. The Eries were a strong,
proud, and warlike people, — ambitious to preserve
that eminence among the tribes which their valor
had won, and which their vigilance thus far in their
history had protected.

There is a story told as to how, at their own
seeking, the prowess of which they boasted was
put to the test, followed with the detail of the
catastrophe, fearful and fatal, which attended the
experiment, and thus runs the legend :

Daganoweda, a wise man of the Onondaga na
tion, aroused to the conviction that the practice of
secession so common among the tribes, where, at
pleasure, whole clans were wont to detach them
selves and seek out new settlements for the plant
ing of new organizations, was the secret of the
weakness of a people, set himself at work not
merely to correct the custom, but to carry out the
opposite theory naturally suggested, and effect, if
possible, a general consolidation of the several
neighboring tribes of his region. He laid his
scheme, carefully and shrewdly prepared to its
minutest details, both as touching the form of
union, and the laws by which its affairs should be
regulated, before some of the leading minds of
the respective nations ; brought about a conven-

THE JESUIT. 55

tion, on the banks of the Ga-nun-ta-a, or Onondaga
Lake, of the prominent sages of each ; carried
through the project successfully, and effected the
erection of the formidable Confederacy of the Ho-
de-rro-sau-nee, or Five Nations.

When the tidings of this coalition was carried to
their towns, the Eries, or Sag-a-neh-gi, became
alarmed. Right confidently, nay eagerly, would
they have taken to the war-path against Seneca
singly, or Cayuga, Onondaga, Oneida, or Mohawk,
but the forces united of the five, numbered an array
too commanding in its proportions to be regarded
with feelings of indifference. The object of the
combination was readily conjectured; but, new
bond and all, were not the Sag-a-neh-gi, even
though numerically inferior, still, in activity, skill,
bravery, — all the elements, indeed, that go to make
up the finished warrior, — their more than peers?
As a matter of prudent precaution — for where were
they left with their proud prestige as Lords of the
Lake departed ? — they decided to put the question
to the test.

A runner was dispatched to the Ho-nan-ne-ho-
onts, or Senecas, the border tribe of the confeder
ates, with a friendly challenge to meet them at
Tu-shu-wa in a friendly game of ball — a hundred
chosen men against a hundred — for a wager of
such value as might be mutually agreed upon.
The messenger was honorably received by the
Senecas; the proposition laid before the council,

56 BLACK-ROBES.

discussed, voted upon, and rejected. The Eries,
elated with this implied admission, as they chose
to interpret the answer, of their superior prowess,
renewed the challenge. It was again considered
by their neighbors, and again declined. When the
defi was delivered for the third time, the older
heads of the council would have given a final re
fusal, but the younger warriors began to murmur
at the action of their elders. Who were these vain
braggarts, — these burrowers in the banks of the
Great Lake, — that they should creep from their
holes to fling insolence in the faces of the Warders
of the Threshold of the Long House ? The de
liberate judgment of the counselors gave' way to
the pressure. The challenge was accepted.

A hundred athletes, of faultless proportion, and
approved in wind and limb, were selected for the
contest. Armed, each one, with his implement of
play, — a slender hickory sapling, cut of suitable
length, bowed at one end like a battledoor, and
having the .hoop stoutly laced athwart-wise with
the dried and twisted sinews of the deer, — they
formed into file, took up their march, and cheered
by the wild applause of their clansmen as they left,
were soon lost to view in the shadows of the forest.
A fleet-footed messenger was sent in advance to
notify the Sag-a-neh-gis of their coming. Arrived
at the spot, — an open space put carefully in order
for the occasion, close by the village, and near the
lake, — the Seneca champions produced their val-

THE JESUIT. 57

uablos — belts of finely-carved and polished wam
pum, bracelets and rings of silver and copper,
moccasins trimmed with crimsoned moose hair,
and embroidered with painted quills of the porcu
pine, shells of purple and gold, with pearls of the
purest water — and assorted them in heaps upon
the ground. The Eries produced their trinkets
of greatest rarity, beauty, and value, and placed
them in corresponding piles, side by side with
the others.

The hour of contest arrived. The game opened
briskly, and was conducted with great skill by both
parties, but resulted in the triumph of the Senecas.
The victors behaved with a modest propriety
scarcely to be expected under the circumstances ;
indulging in no parade of exultation, but quietly
collecting the trophies won in the strife, and pro
ceeding to re-invest themselves in their loose robes,
laid aside while at exercise, preparatory to their
departure. Nettled at the issue, and anxious to
win a revenge for their discomfiture, the Sag-a-
neh-gis invited their competitors to tarry over
another day and have a new trial of merit at a foot
race. The invitation was accepted. Ten men
were selected from each of the parties by their
respective chieftains, and next morning were led to
the course appointed for the contest. Again were
the Eries defeated. The chagrin which they natu
rally felt at the result was materially heightened
from the fact that the Kaukwas, a neighboring

58 BLACK-ROBES.

clan present as invited guests, were witnesses of
the failure.

To redeem, if possible, their lost honors, a
wrestling match was proposed, and agreed to, upon
the terms that the successful champion in each
trial should cleave the skull of his fallen adversary,
and carry away his scalp, to be worn in his belt as
a trophy of the victory. The savage stipulation
was distasteful to the Senecas, but to take excep
tion to it would be to expose themselves to the
charge of cowardice, — a charge which native pride
could never brook ; they, therefore, interposed no
objection, but, after consultation, decided that in
case of success on their side, they would retire from
the field without inflicting the murderous penalty.
The day following was the time appointed, and, at
their invitation, the village of the Kaukwas, some
eighteen miles distant, the place for the contest.
When the parties had assembled and the signal
was given, a Seneca stepped promptly into the
ring. He was as promptly met by a champion of
the Eries. After a short struggle the Sag-a-neh-gi
was brought to the ground, but the victorious Ho-
nan-ne-ho-ont, refusing to inflict the mortal penalty
upon his prostrate competitor, turned on his heel,
and, amid their hearty applause, retired to the
circle of his friends. The chief of the Eries no
sooner witnessed the movement than, with a
bound, he leaped to the side of his fallen clans
man, and with a blow of the tomahawk that buried

THE JESUIT. 59

the blade of the weapon to its haft in his head, left
him dead on the spot where he had fallen.

A second and a third encounter followed with a
like result, each defeated champion being brained
in turn, and his lifeless remains dragged from the
arena, to clear the space for a new contestant and
a fresh victim of sacrifice. Excitement, intense at
first among the Sag-a-neh-gi, grew wilder and
fiercer with each succeeding catastrophe. Fearful
of still more fatal consequences if the dueling were
kept up, the leader of the Senecas, after the third
engagement, called his partisans around him, stated
his apprehensions, and advised an immediate re
tirement from the field. Acting upon the sugges
tion, the force of which was fully appreciated, they
quietly fell back from their position, till, without
awakening suspicion as to their intent, they had
gotten beyond arrow-flight of pursuit, when, taking
to the cover of the woods, they were off at a leap,
and presently far away on the trails that led to
their native lodges. Taken by surprise at the
unexpected manoeuvre, and perhaps restrained by
the reflection that, as invited guests, the Senecas
were honorably entitled to safe departure, the Sag-
a-neh-gis did not attempt to follow, but gathering
up the bodies of their slain, returned crestfallen
and dejected to their wigwams at Tu-shu-wa.

The result of the contest was well calculated to
create uneasiness in the minds of the Eries. They
had failed, signally failed, in all the exercises —

60 BLACK-ROBES.

exercises of their own choosing — in which they
had been engaged. Their adversaries had proved
themselves not only men of nerve and substance,
but schooled, moreover, to dexterous and vigorous
action. On the war-path it would be no holiday
pastime to come to clubs against them. If so
much might be argued of a single member, what
was not to be apprehended of the united house of
the new confederacy? That hostile designs were
in reserve, sooner or later, to be put in force against
the outside, unaffiliated nations by the league, was
a settled conviction, for upon no other argument,
according to savage ratiocination, could the novel
and extraordinary compact be accounted for. The
wise men of the tribe took the question into con
sideration. After due deliberation it was resolved
that to guard against the contingencies likely to
arise, it became them to adopt decisive measures,
and that rather than await an invasion of the
enemy, it was their surer policy themselves to
assume the aggressive. The plan agreed upon was
to bring out their whole force, make a sudden de
scent upon the Senecas, then, if successful in their
surprise-assault, to advance against the Cayugas,
and so successively against the Onondagas, Onei-
das, and Mohawks, until all were annihilated. The
scheme was bold, but if secretly and expeditiously
dispatched, entirely practicable.

Among the women of the tribe was one, a
childless widow, by parentage and early belonging

THE JESUIT. 6 1

a Seneca, but who, in one of their former forays,
had been captured by a party of Eries,' with whom
she had since dwelt as the wife, while he lived, and
afterwards as the widow, of one of their warriors!"
New associations and attachments had left her
content with her captivity, but not to the forgetful-
ness of the old home on the slopes of the Nun-
da-war-o-noh-gi or of her kindred. When the
decision of the council had transpired, unde'r a
quick realization of the fearful calamity in store
for her people, she determined to interfere for its
prevention. When the darkness of night had
fairly settled over the village, and its inhabitants
were wrapped in slumber, she stole cautiously
from her lodge, and wending her way along the
irregular avenues of the town, soon found herself
beyond its limits. Following the course of the
Niagara River, she hurried on through the gloom
of. the forests, with only such light to guide her
steps as falling from the stars dropped winkingly
through the thick leaves overarching her path,
until, as the dawn peeped over the waters, she
found herself on the shore of Lake Ontario. Some
wanderer early abroad, or perhaps a benighted
hunter in the woods, had left his canoe, tied to a
tree, on the margin of the lake. She undid the
astening, leaped into the vessel, and shoved out
into the water. Coasting the lake she plied her
oar with unflagging energy, and by nightfall
reached a settlement of the Senecas at the mouth
6

62 BLACK-ROBES.

of the Oswego River. She hastened to the wig
wam of one of the principal chiefs, and there
unfolded the scheme of treachery which-had been
"plotted in the councils of the Sag-a-neh-gis.

Swift-footed messengers were dispatched, with
out delay, to carry the intelligence to the tribes of
the confederacy. Speedily, as if borne on the
wings of a bird, was the news communicated
through the length and breadth of the land. The
fire was kindled on the shore of the Onondaga,
the great League-Fire of the Ho-de-san-no-ge-ta,
the Custodians of the Council Brand, and at the
summons gathered in from their remotest settle
ments — from the meadows of the Mohawk, — from
the sylvan abodes on the Oneida and Cayuga — the
wise men and the warriors of the Nation. The
conference was brief. With the prompt action
characteristic of the confederates, it was decided
to instantly marshal their forces, move into the
menaced territory of the Senecas, and there await
the invasion of the enemy. The march, five thou
sand men in file, began. At Canandaigua Lake
report was had, through their runners, that the
Eries had crossed the Genesee, and were rapidly
moving eastward. Unconscious of the betrayal
of their plans, they were pressing on, briskly and
eagerly, in full confidence of success.

The armies met at Honeoye, a little lake at half
distance between Canandaigua and the Genesee,
separated only by a narrow sluice, the bed of the

THE JESUIT. 63

streamlet through which the surplus water of the
lake was discharged. No sooner did the Sag-a-
neh-gis discover the presence of their foe than,
with a yell that pierced the forest to its remotest
solitude, they sprang to the conflict. The shock
of the onset was terrific. Midway in the channel
of the stream they came together. Knife met
knife in the hand-to-hand grapple; their blades,
now lifted for the stroke flashed in the light, now
descended after the fatal blow, dripping with crim
son. The brook ran red with blood. The con
federates could not resist the impetuous headway
of the attack. Inch by inch, until they were forced
back some distance from the bed of the rivulet,
did they retreat; the Eries, encouraged by success,
pushing forward with redoubled spirit, a«d filling
the air with whoops of triumph. Victory seemed
within grasp of the assailants when the complexion
of affairs experienced a change.

In arranging their plan of assault, the confeder
ates had detached from their main body a company
of a thousand youths, neophytes as yet in warlike
service, who were ordered to make a detour
through the woods, and, throwing themselves be
hind the enemy, to open an attack on their rear.
The movement was accomplished, and just in time
far opportune relief at the critical juncture referred
to. The customary yell attending the charge into
action was the first indication had of their presence
and purpose. The Eries were taken greatly by

64 BLACK-ROBES.

surprise; nevertheless, although the circumstance
served to chill the ardor of their hopes materially,
they recoiled not from the odds, but battled on
with unabated energy. But the fiery zeal of the
youths, who had their virgin laurels to win, as well
as the honor and integrity of the Long House to
strike for, was an added element in the contest,
which even the most stubborn resistance was not
equal to. The valiant Sag-a-neh-gis maintained
their high reputation well. They fought, they fell,
they died, but they would not yield; and it was
only: over the strewn carcasses of the slain, and
through a way hewn wearily out by stroke of
tomahawk and knife, that the confederates were
able to gain back, foot by foot, the ground which
they had4ost.

The result of a conflict where personal fortitude,
address, and power of endurance were evenly
balanced, and where superiority in numerical
strength must determine the issue, may be antici
pated. When the clash of battle ceased at last,
and the wild acclaims of victory pealed from the
lips of the exultant Ho de-no-sau-nee, it was the
outburst of a jubilation that could provoke no
response; for of all the gallant array that had
striven so valiantly for honor and conquest, save
here and there a solitary craven who, during the
fray, had taken to flight, not a living warrior was
left to be moved lo mortification or resentment, or
to breathe defiance against the conquerors. The

THE JESUIT. 65

Sag-a-neh-gi, as a name among the nations, was
blotted out forever.

As the ancients of the tribes — the broken remnant
of the old nation of renown — sit in the sunshine
at their cabin-doors, stringing their beads or plait
ing their braids for the tawdry trinkets in which
they traffic, in these latter degenerate days, such
is the tale with which they talk away a summer's
hour for the entertainment of idlers that choose to
loiter and listen. Let the preliminary details of
the tradition meet with what acceptance they may,
the crowning fact of the catastrophe is undeniably
authentic. The battle between the Eries and the
Iroquois took place in or about the year 1654, and
resulted, as the narrative sets forth, in the com
plete extermination of the former. Their broad
lands became a possession of the confederates, —
the first of a series of acquisitions that were to go
on until the empire of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee reached
from Carolina to Canada, and from the seashore to
the Mississippi.

V.

THE FAITH ON THE PENNSYLVANIA BORDER AND IN
THE VALLEYS OF LA BELLE RIVIERE.

ALTHOUGH the annihilation of the Eries left
the Iroquois in undisputed ownership of the
territory, there was no permanent occupation of
the upper Ohio valley region for many years after
wards. The labors of the early Jesuit missionaries,
therefore, among this people, were limited to their
original settlements on the lakes. Twelve years
before the date of the defeat of the Eries — that
event so remote as to be without a positive history,
mummied, as it were, amid the obscurities of tra
ditional times — the Black-Robe had crossed the
St. Lawrence, and planted the Cross in the wilds
of Western New York. In the summer of that
year Father Jogues, together with Rene Goupel —
the " Good Rene," — and Ahistari, a converted chief
of the Hurons, were captured by a party of Mo
hawks, on their return from a successful raid
into the Canada country. Jogues, after having
his finger-nails torn out, his fingers gnawed to the
bone, and been forced to run the " narrow path to
Paradise," as he terms the gauntlet, was hurried
along to one of the nearest villages of his captors.
Here he found a scaffold erected, on which were
placed a number of Hurons, prisoners like himself,
(66)

THE JESUIT. 67

destined apparently for instant execution. Several
of these were catechumens, who, in happier days,
had received instruction from his lips in the lodges
on their native lakes.

Forgetful of his own afflictions, the generous
father at once entered upon his priestly duty,
offering whatever of spiritual consolation he could
impart to the captives, enlightening the ignorant,
confessing the faithful, and qualifying the convert
for the redeeming rite of baptism. There were
those among the doomed on the scaffold who were
anxious to undergo this sacramental ceremony, but
there was no water at command to meet the want
of the occasion. It so happened, fortunately, —
providentially, rather, the zealous believer would
regard it, — that a savage passing by flung a stalk
of green corn on the platform. It was in the morn
ing. The distillations of the night had not wasted
as yet under the temperate warmth of the hour,
and from the dews that clung to the long blades of
the maize the eager servant of Jesus gathered the
precious drops that served his purpose, and the
saving rite was accomplished. The prisoners, for
the time being, however, were reprieved, — all ex
cept the natives Ahasistari, Paul, and Stephen, who,
with the cruelties common in such cases, were put
to death, one in each of the three towns of the tribe
through which they passed. Rene Goupel, who,
at liberty or in bonds, never failed in God's service
when opportunity offered, for having attempted to

68 BLACK-ROBES.

make the sign of a cross on the brow of a child,
was cleft through the skull with a tomahawk, near
the village of Andagoran. Jogues himself, although
through repeated miraculous escapes, and at the
cost of cruel suffering, escaped the fate of his com
panions. Kept under strict surveillance as a pris
oner, he was nevertheless, after awhile, allowed
the freedom of the villages, where he employed
himself contributing to the spiritual comfort of the
Huron captives, and the instruction, where it was
tolerated, of their savage masters. As the fruits
of his labor during the few months of his forced
sojourn among the Mohawks, he reckons in his
record of the service "about seventy baptisms, be
sides many confessions." Having received friendly
warning, at length, that the Mohawks, exasperated
by a late defeat before Fort Richelieu, had deter
mined to revenge themselves by the sacrifice of
his life, he managed to effect his escape into the
Dutch settlements on the Hudson.

In 164.6, having in the mean time sailed for Eu
rope, visited Rome, and been honored by Pope
Innocent XL, because of the tortures he had un
dergone, with the title of Martyr, Jogues was ap
pointed by the Superior to revisit the scene of his
captivity and establish a mission there among the
Mohawks. To cross the St. Lawrence, then, was to
venture into the jaws of death. But he upon whom
the agents of hell had done their cruelest already
— the single living Martyr of all the dead — was

THE* JESUIT. 69

not to be deterred from the mission. "Ibo" said
he, as he wrapped his dark gown about him, kissed
his crucifix, and started on his journey, — " Ibo — et
non redibo /" He went, and he never returned.

John Lalande, a Frenchman, attended the doomed
father when he started. After having proceeded
some distance on their way, they encountered a
band of savages, painted and clad in the colors
and costume of war, by whom they were seized,
bound, and conducted to Gandawague, a Mohawk
village on the Caughnawaga. In a conference
which was held, after their arrival there, a division
arose as to the disposition that should be made of
the prisoners, — some of the clans advising their
release, the rest insisting upon their execution.
While the council deliberated — it was in the even
ing — one of its members withdrew, and, under
pretense of hospitality, invited the prisoners to his
cabin. As they were about to enter, a savage, con
cealed behind the door, sprang out, and, with his
tomahawk, cleft the skull of the missionary. La
lande shared the fate of his distinguished companion.

Seven years after the unhappy adventure of
Jogues, John Le Moyne took up the cross, and,
undismayed by the cruel fate of his predecessor,
followed into the field left unoccupied by the death
of the Martyr. Arrived at Onondaga, he consented,
at the invitation of some of the Iroquois, backed
by the entreaties of the Huron captives detained
there, to open a mission at that town. This settle-

;o BLACK-ROBES.

ment was discovered to be peculiarly desirable, as
it afforded a larger scope to his influence than
could be commanded at any other point, in that it
was discovered to be the central capital of the Long
House, where the representatives of the Nations
were accustomed to assemble in their annual coun
cils, and whence, consequently, radiated, to a con
trolling extent, the influences, moral and political,
which moulded the convictions and fashioned the
character of the common population of the con
federacy.

The early labors of Le Moyne were promisingly
successful, especially among the Hurons, who, as
sociating the rites of worship with the memories
of the homes from which they had been torn, were
all the more favorably inclined to its observances
in their captivity. Nor was their example lost
upon the Iroquois.

The good priest had served but a few months at
his post when the news — the great news, heralded,
according to the legend, by the captive Seneca
woman — of the advance of the Eries was blazed
abroad from fire to fire throughout the tribes of
the Nation. Of the warriors who gathered at the
call of the council to meet the invasion, was one,
an Onondaga chief, Achiongeras, a man excellent
in reputation among the captains of the clans. On
the eve of his departure he called on the Black-
Robe, pictured to him the perils he was about to
encounter, declared that his courage must fail him

THE JESUIT. 71

if not inspired by brighter assurances for the future
than the superstitions of heathenism afforded, and
implored that he might be received into the con
fession and under the protection of the faith of the
Prayer. Persuaded, after due investigation, that
his convictions were genuine and sincere, Le
Moyne led him to the water, and, by the mystical
rite of the church, admitted him into its commu
nion. The converted chief, with the dews of bap
tism yet damp on his brow, then started on his
march, and, at the head of his savage legion, was
soon forth from the village and away on the war
path.

The opposing forces came together. The battle
waged long and fiercely, and the lines of the Iro-
quois were slowly but steadily giving way before
the enemy, when Achiongeras, whose intrepid
bearing had made him conspicuous in the fight,
suddenly paused and beckoned to the braves who
supported him. They gathered about him at the
signal. Dropping upon his knee, the Christian
chief lifted his crimsoned hands towards heaven,
the group of assembled clansmen imitating the
action, when with a solemn vow they unitedly
plighted their faith, and that of their people, to the
God of the Prayer would He vouchsafe them rescue
in this* crisis of their peril. The vow was honored.
Animated afresh, as by a divine inspiration, the
wavering band regained its footing, won back its
lost advantage, and, profiting by the recovery,

72 BLACK-ROBES.

paused not until the strife was over, and the field
triumphantly, overwhelmingly won.

Achiongeras and his companions were true to
their pledge. After the return of the victorious
army, a general council was called, when, by
solemn decree, Christianity was established in the
capital of the confederacy. The French were in
vited over to plant a settlement. Fathers Menard,
Dablon, Broar, and Boursier, under lead of the Su
perior of the mission, assumed the direction of the
enterprise. The party, attended by a numerous
escort of savages, launched their fleet of canoes
at Quebec, ascended the St. Lawrence, with the
banner of the Cross waving its silken folds in the
gentle May-breeze at its head, and amid the roar
of cannon, and the ringing cheers of waiting multi
tudes, landed, after a tedious but prosperous voyage,
on the shores of Onondaga, where, after consum
mating the trifling arrangements necessary for
their own temporary shelter, they proceeded di
rectly to the erection of a house of worship. And
so arose the great central Mission of St. Mary's of
Ga-nun-ta-a.

Among the branches of this chief station, estab
lished as they were in each of the tribal districts
of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee, and through which the
Sacred Mysteries, to the enlightenment of all, and
the happy conversion of thousands, were made to
reach the ears of the people, was the one organized
by Father Chaumonot, at Gandagare, among the

THE JESUIT. 73

Senecas. This worthy pioneer labored diligently
at his post, and was permitted to rejoice, as one of
the first fruits of his toil, in the conversion of An-
nontenritaoui, the head chief of his tribe. Frenin,
Allouez, Raffeix, Pierron, Gamier, and others, fol
lowed soon after, all exerting themselves in the
duties of their office so profitably, that when, some
years after, the English asserted their claim to the
region, and the Jesuits were forced to abandon the
ground, they left upwards of five hundred baptized
natives, as conservators of the Faith, behind them.

When the Senecas, therefore, began to occupy
the lands along the western valleys left vacant by
the expulsion of their enemies, although unat
tended by the Black-Robes, they went not out in
ignorance of the saving belief of the Prayer. They
carried the Cross with them, and the name of Jesus
was not strange in the ears of the people whose
wigwams soon dotted the valley of the Alleghany,
and whose tents were pitched down by the shores
of the Beautiful River. The old chief Shekellamy,
of the Cayugas, father of Tah-gah-jute, renowned
under the more familiar name of Logan, had knelt
in confession, and taken his vows, at the altar of
God. Anastasius was in the communion of the
church, — he, the chieftain of Loretto, who led the
Indians from the fort at De-un-da-ga, — old Fort
Duquesne, — and was mainly instrumental in the
defeat of Braddock on the Monongahela.

By the middle of the eighteenth century, when
7

74 BLACK-ROBES.

the early white traders began to extend their com
merce beyond the mountains, numerous settle
ments were found at different localities on the
Ohio, composed, besides the Iroquois, but subject
to them, of the Shawanese from Florida, and Dela-
wares immigrated from Eastern Pennsylvania. The
first prophet from abroad to lift up his voice in this
new wilderness was Denis Baron, a Recollect, who
had come to serve as chaplain to the French soldiery
at the occupation of Fort Duquesne, or the " Fort
of the Assumption," by which title it appears to have
been dedicated on the first recurrence of the festi
val of that name after the arrival of the troops.
The services of Father Baron were not limited to
the garrison. Free intercourse was allowed with
the natives, the soldiers, excepting such as were on
duty, passing the greater portion of their time in
and about the bark cabins which they had built for
themselves outside the fortification. By this means
the good priest was enabled to mingle with the
savages of the neighborhood ; as the result of
which quite a number of conversions, not only
among the Indians, but of the whites, seized in their
wars and held as captives, are reported in his Re
gister, forwarded to the Superior at Quebec. But
the operations of the chaplain, and the projects
which may have been entertained with regard to a
special spiritual occupation of the ground, were
cut short through the abandonment, by the French,
of the fort in 1758, .their surrender of the Ohio

THE JESUIT. 75

valley possessions in dispute, and retirement back
into their own proper provinces beyond the St.
Lawrence. For nearly thirty years subsequently
the Faith was left without an advocate on the
frontier.

The Abbe Benedict Joseph Flaget was the
earliest apostle, afterwards, to unfurl the standard
of the Cross *in Western Pennsylvania. He spent
several months, in 1792, at Pittsburg, administer
ing to the spiritual necessities of the settlers, and
of the soldiers, collected there under General
Wayne, just then on the eve of his memorable
march against the Indians. But he who was des
tined to be the Pioneer of the Faith in this newly-
developing quarter of American civilization, had
not yet quite appeared.

Demetrius Augustine Gallitzin, begotten in a
line of noble descent, was borne at the Hague, on
the 22d of December, 1770. His father was the
ambassador representing Russia in Holland: his
mother, Amelia, Countess of Schmettan, — a Ger
man family of high distinction. The young prince
received his training under the tutelage of Voltaire,
an intimate personal friend of his father's ; — a train
ing conformable, of course, to the skeptical creed
of that eminent philosopher. But maturer reflec
tion brought with it purer convictions : the heresies
of deism were discarded, and the youthful pupil in
unbelief became the convert of Christianity. When
seventeen years of age, he connected himself with

76 BLACK-ROBES.

the Catholic Church. In 1792, accompanied by
his tutor, the Rev. Mr. Brosius, he came to Ame
rica, entered the Sulpitian Seminary at Baltimore,
completed his studies at that institution, and three
years afterwards was admitted into the priesthood,
— the second theological student of his faith to
undergo ordination in the United States. For a few
years subsequently, after he had taken orders, his
labors were confined to Cumberland, Hagerstown,
Chambersburg, Path Valley, and other points in
Pennsylvania. At length he conceived the project
of penetrating farther towards the border, and
choosing out a suitable locality, with a view to
establishing- a colony, and through this means, of
giving rise to a hallowed influence whose benefi
cial force might be felt in the modeling of society
out of the heterogeneous population newly planted
in the young settlements of the West. Accord
ingly he selected a site, in an uninhabited waste
on the Alleghany Mountains, erected a rude cabin
for his own shelter, and a log chapel for the accom
modation of such straggling worshipers as Provi
dence might throw in his way. He then purchased
large tracts of land, which he divided into farms,
and sold at nominal rates, or gave gratuitously to
settlers willing to share the chances of the future
with him, and so began his work.

By his adoption of the Catholic faith the young
priest had forfeited all title to his father's property.
His sister, the Princess Anne Gallitzin, who, after

THE JESUIT. 77

his disfranchisement, became sole inheritress of the
estate, lent a partial aid to her brother, by which
he was enabled to meet, to some extent, the ex
penses of his enterprise; but her contributions
ceased, presently, upon her marriage, and Deme
trius was, thenceforward, left to his own resources.
But his misfortunes were not permitted to cripple
his industry. Forests were felled, lands were
cleared, acres were tilled, cottages were built, and
soon the mountain wilderness, stripped of its savage
features, began to display the cheerier view of field
upon field greenly grown, or goldenly ripened, —
beautiful in promise and rich in reward, — to crown
the labor of the husbandmen. Meanwhile the
indefatigable missionary neglected not the more
important obligations of his office. From home
to home did he journey, from neighborhood to
neighborhood, exercising his deeds of chanty,
imparting his lessons of religious instruction, until
the name of Father Smith — the humble title which,
in lieu of the more illustrious designation, he saw
fit to assume — was known, respected, and revered
in every household on the border.

Gallitzin began his mission in 1799, with, per
haps, a dozen men of his faith scattered about
through the mountain, and no other sanctuary,
save the little oratory of Father Flaget, in all the
West, than the one of logs thirty feet long, which
he himself had reared. He lived to see the village
of Loretto, which he had founded, grow into a
7*

78 BLACK-ROBES.

populous and flourishing town; to find the Faith,
whose standard he had been the first to restore
since its going down amid the ruins of Fort Du-
quesne, established upon a footing from which no
revolution of time or circumstance was ever after
wards to displace it; to witness new chapels spring
up, one by one, till every hamlet almost, dotting
the lowlands down upon which he looked, had its
spire; to behold his mission prevail, until the
apostolic number of his original followers had
increased and multiplied a thousandfold ; till
hospitals and houses of industry, by the liberal
charities of his people, were erected; and till
boarding-schools, free-schools, orphan asylums,
and theological colleges were institutions common
throughout the land, as were the necessities which
called them into existence. He died at Loretto in
1840.

Such were the early missionaries, by whose in
strumentality the light of Revelation was made to
shed its first glories in the wilderness and on the
border. Should it be charged, as illiberal antago
nists have charged, that the labors which were
spent were productive of but temporary and
doubtful results, and that relapses into their origi
nal superstitions were apt to overtake the converts
as soon as relieved of the protecting presence of
their teachers, it ought to be borne in mind that
the material to be operated upon was crude as

THE JESUIT. 79

savage imperfection could make it, — incapable of
the impressions possible to a condition of higher
sensibility and refinement, — and that the misfortune
was not a fault inherent in the creed, or chargeable
against the ministers, and their modes of its inter
pretation. But the imputation is not admitted by
the religionists against whom it is leveled. They
not only deny the apostacy alleged, but claim for
their proselytes a distinguishing superiority over
all the native populations, pagan or heretical,
besides. If challenged to the proof, they refer to
the evidence of Protestant witnesses, — men and
women of popular note, and competent from per
sonal observation to testify, of the facts. They
point to Bishop Fenwick, who, of later date, found
a whole tribe of Passamaquoddies true to their
Christian allegiance, and whom he commendingly
notes as "a living monument of the apostolic
labors of the Jesuits." They allude to Sir George
Simpson, who relates how the Chippewas preserved
their faith, unsustained by the aid of a priest,
through the years of half a century. They quote
from Mr. Buckingham, who, speaking of the Hu-
rons, says: "They are faithful Catholics, and are
said to fulfill their religious duties in the most ex
emplary manner, being much more improved by
their commerce with the whites than the Indian
tribes who have first come into contact with Prot
estants usually are." They repeat the Rev. Dr.
Morse, who writes of the Indians in Western

80 BLACK-ROBES.

Michigan, at lArbre Croche, "the seat for sixty
years or more of a Jesuit mission," that they "are
much in advance, in point of improvement, in ap
pearance, and in manners, of all the Indians whom
I visited." They cite the observation of Mrs.
Jameson, who, in the way of a contrast not flatter
ing to creedists of different denomination, speaks
of the people of a tribe whom she visited, as
having "heard them sing Mass with every demon
stration of decency and piety;" and the corrobora-
tion of Harriet Martineau, expressed generally
with regard to the nations of the Northwest, that
"one thing is most visible, certain, and undeniable,
that the Roman Catholic converts are in appear
ance, dress, intelligence, industry, and general
civilization, superior to all others." But there is a
more striking, because more recent, instance of the
indisputable blessings accruing from the labors of
the Black-Robes among the savages, to which
they refer with special satisfaction, because so
well attested by clouds of living witnesses. The
Chopunnish, or Nez-Perces, noted, long ago, as
a selfish, avaricious, miserly, root-eating tribe, in
habiting the distant regions of Oregon and Idaho,
were visited many years since by the Catholic
missionary, who has maintained a permanent oc
cupation of the ground ever since, — uninterfcred
with, of course, in a quarter, until within a twelve
month or so ago,* so remote and isolated from

* This article was written in 1868.

THE JESUIT. 8 1

civilized life, by ministers of any other persuasion.
This nation has been brought under the control
of Christian influence, — has made rapid progress
towards refinement, is active in the peaceful pur
suits of industry, and, in marked contrast with
surrounding tribes, stands noted for the orderly
behavior, sobriety, purity, and intelligence of its
people.

To whom it is due let honor be accredited, — not
grudgingly and reluctantly, but with a hearty will,
and abundantly. If the Jesuit, defiant of perils,
seen and unseen, — perils that threatened death,
and visited it, in every imaginable form of terror,
and through every conceivable shape of torture, —
dared to prosecute the errand appointed for him,
over immeasurable leagues of dreary, desolate dis
tance, and by pathless ways, through solitudes,
vast, waste, andxwild, as solitudes might only be
that had been left untenanted and untraversed,
save by roving beasts and crawling reptiles, since
God spoke them into being; if he followed his
pilgrimage patiently and hardily, in despite of
summer's heat, of winter's cold, of storm, of night,
through sickness as it fell, and want, and famine;
and all, — Heaven's pity on him ! — all alone ; is he
to be denied of his glory on the uncharitable plea
that he was driven to the task under sentence of
his Superior, and as constrained by the obligation
of the oath of his office; or that he was tempted
to the sacrifice by a mad zeal for the extension

82 BLACK-ROBES.

of the temporal authority of the church, and for
the aggrandizement, especially, of his own eccle
siastical order? If the formulary of his profession
— not his creed, because the creed of all Christ's
followers is one — sanctions a scheme of views and
practices not in accordance with the notions and
customs of the sects which repudiate him, must
the disciple of Loyola, therefore, be esteemed as a
vessel of dishonor, and disowned as a false prophet
among God's people?

Old Menard hazards his life for the love of Jesus,
traveling and tarrying, as duty bids, on the water
and on the land; yet, in his frail canoe, amid the
tempests of the one, or under his arbor of fir-
branches, exposed to the bitterest of midwinter
severities, on the other, he is to be found, at the
dawn and decline of each day, bent in devotion,
repeating " Our Father which art in heaven," and
closing the invocation with the supplicatory chant
to the Virgin, "Mater amata intemerata, Omy ora
pro nobis!" — Is the hymn a sacrilege?

Marquette lies, throbbing his life away, on the
shore of Lake Michigan. He addresses his inter
cessory prayer to the Mother of his Master, and
then, as the last act of his life, raises the Cross to
his lips and kisses it, in sweet regard for Him
whose sacrifice it typifies. Was that an idolatry
for the soul to shudder at ?

A poor Huron captive is burning to death at the
stake, when Father Jogues, himself a prisoner,

THE JESUIT. 83

under the pretended purpose of proffering the
victim a taste of water to cool his parched tongue,
rushes into the flames, and administers to him,
covertly, the sacrament of baptism. Did the Re
cording Angel write down the false pretense as a
sin of special enormity, — one that, measured by
the standard of a strict morality, should appear in
startling judgment against the offender in the last
day?

He who has laid to heart, dutifully, the admoni
tions of inspiration, seeks not to examine too
inquiringly into the faults of a brother. He re
members the lesson of the Mote and the Beam ;
and, above all, forgets not that the graces which
constitute the glory of Christian character are
Faith, Hope, and Charity, and that "the greatest
of these is Charity."

THE MORAVIAN.

(85)

THE MORAVIAN.

I.

THE MORAVIANS IN EASTERN PENNSYLVANIA.

DRIVEN from his dominions by the Elector
of Saxony, a community of Moravians — or,
as they distinguish themselves, Unitas Fmtrum, or
United Brethren, — residing in Berthelsdorf, a village
of Upper Lusatia, under the patronage of Count
Zinzendorf, and to carry out a project which they
had already contemplated, emigrated, in 1734, to
America. They reached their destination, after a
prosperous voyage, in the spring of the year fol
lowing, settling themselves in Savannah, in the
State of Georgia. The object of their undertaking
was to introduce the gospel to the Indians of the
New World. About five miles from Savannah, in
the river of that name, is an island, which, at the
time, was occupied by quite a-community of Creek
Indians. Among these they established them
selves, opening schools for the children, and pro
claiming the " Great Word," day after day, to the
people. They were not allowed, however, to pro
secute their labors long enough to reap any sub-

(87)

88 BLACK-ROBES.

stantial reward. In consequence of a disagreement
with the provincial government, growing out of a
refusal to take up arms against the Spaniards in
their attempts to expel the English from Georgia,
the Brethren left the region, looking towards the
north for the seat of a new settlement.

Induced by favorable representations, they
moved into Pennsylvania, where, attracted by the
inviting meadows which border its rivers, they
planted the little colonies — grown into pleasant
and prosperous towns since — of Bethlehem and
Nazareth. These towns were made the central
seat of the Brotherhood, where, dwelling together
in amiable companionship, its members could
carry out among themselves the usages, economi
cal and social, as well as religious, peculiar to
their creed, and whence they could, at the same
time, send forth their evangelists to " testify the
gospel of the grace of God" to the unenlight
ened natives. The resident members of the So
ciety, towards this grand aim, were covenanted
through their charities, their contributions, and by
every means which arising exigencies might invite,
and which it was possible to command, to lend
themselves to the support of the missionaries.
The missionaries, on their part, were to conform to
certain rules which had been suggested by Count
Zinzendorf and approved by common concurrence
of the Brotherhood, — rules, by the way, very nearly
of a type with those to which the Jesuits had been

THE MORAVIAN. 89

pledged, and conformably with which they had
served in their earlier operations among the tribes.
They were to submit themselves to the wise direc
tion and guidance of God in all circumstances ; to
seek to preserve liberty of conscience ; to avoid all
religious disputes ; to preach the gospel of Jesus
Christ, and to endeavor as much as possible to
earn their own bread. In a strange land, with the
Puritan to beard them on the Border, and the Pa
gan to persecute them in the Wilderness, and with
uncultivated wastes to serve in, where sustenance
was meagre and hard to come by, the task de
manded and the terms imposed were of no con
temptible consideration. But they were men willing
always, and bold, to meet their responsibilities.

Under the enterprise of Brother Christian Henry
Rauch, a mission was opened and a community
established in Shekomeko, a Mohican village,
twenty-five miles east o£ the Hudson River and
near the Connecticut border. Through his instru
mentality, three of the natives, Shabash, Seim,and
Kiop,were converted and baptized, under the names
respectively of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, into
the church, — the three "firstlings" of the Faith
in America. Rauch was joined afterwards by Mar
tin Mack, Gottlob Buettner, Frederick Post and
others, whose common field of operations, with
Shekomeko as the centre, extended from Pachgat-
goch in Connecticut, to Albany, New York, on the
north, and Shomokin and Wajomick on the Sus-
8*

9o

BLACK-ROBES.

quehanna, in the west, embracing various villages
of the Mohican, Shawanese, and Delaware Indians.
The missionaries encountered serious opposition in
their work. Post, in company with David Zeis-
berger, made a tour through Northern New York
among the Iroquois. As the Six Nations were
suspected of cherishing a sympathy for the French,
the object of Post and his associate's visit was set
down as a political one, and on the charge that
they were secretly co-operating with the confed
eracy to bring about an alliance with the enemy,
they were arrested at Albany, brought to New
York and cast into prison. Although discharged,
after a confinement of six weeks, by an act of As
sembly, they were prohibited from preaching, and
ordered to leave the State. In Connecticut they
were accused of papistical proclivities, and had to
encounter such a pressure of Puritanic resistance
on the ridiculous change, that they were con
strained to desist from their labors. After an
existence of some four years, the mission of She-
komeko was abandoned, the few Christian Mohi
cans composing its congregation retiring with their
teachers to the friendly shelters of the Moravians
at Bethlehem. Here, a short distance from the
town, for their temporary accommodation, the
modest hamlet of Friedenshutten, or the Tents of
Peace, was built on the Susquehanna River.

Thus far the operations of the Brethren had been
moderately, but promisingly, successful. Bands of

THE MORAVIAN. 9 1

converts were to be found, here and there, through
out the entire range over which the journeyings
of the missionaries had extended. To bring these
scattered groups together, the more effectually
thereby to extend a salutary supervision over their
spiritual as well as worldly interests, lands were
bought on the Mahanoy, to which they were in
vited, and whither they repaired. The fertile acres
of the purchase were fenced off into fields for cul
tivation, all except a small portion, which was set
apart as a seat for the dwellings of the settlers. A
church was built in the heart of this reserve.
Clusters of cottages were planted along the rising
grounds on one side adjoining, and the homestead
of the missionary, and the consecrated plot, with
its narrower abodes for those who, once housed,
were to know thereafter no change of habitation,
on the other. And so arose, in the valley of the
river, the settlement of Gnadenhiitten, — the happy
village of the Tents of Grace.

The converts gathered at Gnadenhiitten, besides
the Mohican families flitted from Shekomeko, were
chiefly Delawares. With the abandonment of the
superstitions of their fathers, they had quit their
vagrant courses and were settled into a community
soon noted for the thrift, the exemplary habits,
and the well-regulated behavior of its people.
With the dawn of each day, before assuming their
allotted labors, and at its decline, when toils were
ended, they might have been seen tracing their

92 BLA CK-R OSES.

way to the sanctuary of the village, there to pre
sent their stated offerings of worship at its altar.
Psalms of praise saluted the morning ; hymns of
thanksgiving ascended in the evening; voices were
lifted in prayer, and lessons of instruction declared,
— Christian Rauch officiating, or Martin Mack, the
first commissioned to administer the Word and the
Sacraments among the converts. But the peace
of the settlement* propitiously as it opened, was
not to remain long undisturbed.

In the active hostilities which opened in 1755
between the French and English, although they de
clined taking any part, the Moravians had to bear
their full share of the resulting distresses. Many of
the converts, too easily seduced from the paths of
peace when the war-trail offered its more congenial
attractions, deserted the Tents of Grace and betook
them to the camp9 of the unbaptized insurgents,
who, espousing the cause of the former of the
belligerents, had taken up arms against the latter.
The rising of the savages created intense alarm
throughout the settlements. After the first act of
barbarous warfare, which consisted in the burning
of several houses not far from Shomokin, and the
massacre of their inmates, the threatened popula
tion took to flight, scattering in the deeper wilder
nesses towards the mountains on the one hand,
and with their* faces seaward on the other, wher
ever a way of escape seemed to offer from the
perils by which they were surrounded. The

THE MORAVIAN. 93

Brethren in Bethlehem and Gnadenhiitten alone,
of all whose safety was menaced, refused to forsake
their homes. " The peace of God comforted them,
and preserved their hearts from fear and despair."
The pagan Shawanese — much the larger portion
of the tribe — employed every inducement to win
over the residue of their clansmen, who still main
tained a fidelity to the Moravians, but without
success. Death was threatened if refusal were
persisted in, but the loyal adherents were not to be
moved. The mission-house on the Mahanoy was
attacked and set on fire, eleven of the Brethren and
Sisters perishing in the flames. The visitation was
borne by the sufferers with a spirit of martyrly for
titude. Steadfastly they maintained their place,
comforting and sustaining each other as they
might, and looking to God as their refuge in the
dark times of their affliction. " O Lord, we be
seech Thee," was the burden of their daily prayer,
"save Thou us, that all may know that Thou art
the Lord, even Thou only."

Through four years, down to the time of the aban
donment of FortDuquesne and the retirement of the
French, to their own provinces, were these faithful
saints forced to endure the persecutions of their re
lentless enemies. Meanwhile the task to which they
were dedicated was not forgotten, nor the zeal di
minished with which it was pursued. The Indian
villages along the waters of the Delaware, the Le-
high, and the Susquehanna were visited. The mis-

94 BLA CK-R OBES.

sions of Friedenshiitten and Tschechschequannink
on the last-mentioned river were established, while
ministers, such as Grube, and Mack, and Roesler,
and Kiefer, were sent abroad among the settle
ments to declare the Word, wherever Christians
were to be comforted, or heathen to hear and be
reclaimed ; and the work of the Lord went on and
prospered in their hands. The emigration of the
main body of the Delawares and Shawanese to the
West, shortly before, and during the war, and the
reports of the region which found their way back to
Bethlehem, led the Brethren to look with special
interest in that direction.

Christian Frederick Post has been mentioned in
connection with the operations of the Moravians in
Eastern Pennsylvania. He was a joiner by trade,
but a man of more than ordinary intelligence, and,
being animated with a lively religious zeal, soon
abandoned his humble calling, and, qualifying
himself for the office, became a minister of the
Faith, — one of the most enterprising and efficient
among his co-laborers of the Brotherhood. By
reason of his marriage to a native, although an ex
cellent Christian woman, he was deprived of his
right to be regarded as a missionary of the Society.
Yet the disfranchisement was rather technical than
real, for, while not officially acknowledged, his
priestly services were neither forbidden nor dis
owned by his associates. In 1758, by appointment
of the Governor of Pennsylvania, he visited, on two

THE MORAVIAN. 95

occasions, the tribes settled in the Ohio Valley ; the
object of the undertaking being to counteract the
mischievous influence of the French, and to insure,
if possible, the establishment of amicable relations
between that doubtful people and the English.
Success attended his embassy. The savages re
fused to rally to their support, and the consequence
was that, as General Forbes approached soon after
with his army, the garrison of Fort Duquesne de
serted their stronghold without the offer of a blow
in its defense. Again, in 1761, Post repeated his
visit ; not, on this occasion, in the capacity of a
political envoy, but as an ambassador of the gospel.
He prosecuted his journey into the interior until he
reached the wigwams of the Shawanese and Hu-
rons on the Muskingum River.

These adventures of the distinguished Moravian
were not achieved without their attending risks and
trials. His route led through an unexplored wil
derness. Bands of savages infested the woods, and
the red stakes, used to fasten prisoners to for secu
rity during the halts of a march, found here and
there driven into the ground, and the fresh scalps
stretched on hoops and hung on bushes by the
wayside to dry, plainly indicated that they were
abroad with no innocent intention. His food con
sisted of such provision as the chances of each day,
out of the spare resources of the forest, afforded ;
while as to shelter, for thirty-one nights, as the jour
nal of one of his expeditions intimates, he lay in

g6 BLACK-ROBES.

the woods with the heavens for his covering, and
the dew settling so penetratingly on him that it
' pinched close to the skin." But " the Lord pre
served him through all the dangers and difficulties "
of the way, and brought him, " under a thick,
heavy, and- dark cloud," safely to its termination.
Foremost of "evangelical" apostles in those dis
tant wilds, he nevertheless discovered that he had
been anticipated, and that the tidings of the Cross
were not unknown on the Muskingum, although
the Jesuit fathers, — Jogues, perhaps, or Gravier,
or Mermet, — to whom the enlightened were in
debted for the story, were dust and ashes genera
tions ago.

Post requested, and obtained, permission of the
Indians to establish a mission among them ; built
a house, — the first one erected in the State of
Ohio, — went back to Bethlehem for an assistant,
and early in the year following returned with John
Heckewelder, and commenced his religious labors
at the new station. Before his plans were fairly
entered upon, dissatisfactions sprang up, which
were to culminate in the war of 1763 ; the Indians
began to show violence, and the post was aban
doned.

But the experiment of the Christian pioneer, if a
failure in itself, was not without its beneficial re
sults. His explorations satisfied the Brethren that
an inviting field offered beyond the Alleghanies for
the display of missionary enterprise. Mingos and

THE MORAVIAN. 97

Shawanese, Tuscaroras and Hurons, had their vil
lages or scattered lodges dotting the plains and
water -courses from Alleghene — for so the country
up towards its source, and bordering on the stream
of that name, then known as the Ohio, was desig
nated — to the levels of Sandusky, and from the
Onenge River, or Venango, to the Muskingum.
There, too, were to be found the towns of the emi
grated Delawares, — the tribe nearest their hearts
as the one among whose people they had dwelt,
and out of which the principal fruits of their labor
had been gathered. The remnant of that nation,
still lingering in the original neighborhood, was
rapidly diminishing. English settlers were intrud
ing with fast strides on their patrimonies. The
Iroquois, proud and unfeeling masters, had found
it serviceable to their own aims to aid in these
aggressions, which they did with a no doubtful or
hesitating interference. " We conquered you/'
they had arrogantly said through their messenger,
Paxnous, an old chief of the Shawanese, " and
made women of you. Therefore we charge you to
fall back immediately. Don't deliberate, but re
move away, or the Great Council will come and
clean your ears with a red-hot iron." The unhappy
Lenni-Lenapes had not dared to dispute the order^
and soon the places that knew them were to know
them no more. The Moravians \vould not desert
them. The Tents of Grace must be pitched anew — •
so they determined — in the far wilderness whither

9

98 BLACK-ROBES.

the exiles had wandered, and the messages of
Peace must be borne to the shores of the rivers
where their cabins were planted.

II. i*g
THE "PLACE OF HOGS" ON THE UPPER ALLEGHANY.

THE morning service had been held in the
chapel at Friedenshiitten. The prayers of
the congregation had been offered with unusual so
lemnity ; the voices of the worshipers had mingled
in hymns of adoration with more than common
fervor, and with the sentence of the benediction
still lingering in their ears, the Brethren were
gathered in the open space that lay under the
shadow of their sanctuary, to bid God-speed to
one of their number about to leave them on a
distant, arduous, and perilous journey. David
Zeisberger had been a conspicuous actor in all the
leading enterprises of the Society since the date
of its organization at Bethlehem. He had pene
trated the territories of the tribes of the East, even
to the cabins of the Iroquois at Onondaga. He
had prayed in their wigwams; he had preached in
their villages. He had organized new circles of
believers, gathered in to strengthen the bands of

THE MORAVIAN.

99

the old, or associated apart and made the centres
of new settlements. Enterprising, intrepid, inde
fatigable, zealous, — the Paul among the Apostles
of the Unity, — if the Good Cause cal-led for extraor
dinary undertaking in any newly-chosen line of
action, he was looked to by the congregation as
the champion for the duty. When the project of
a mission in the West was resolved upon, there
fore, his appointment to see it carried into effect
followed as a matter of course ; and on the 3Oth
of September, 1767, amid the solemn ceremo
nials of worship, the blessings and the sad fare
wells of his people, accompanied by two native
converts, Anthony, and John Papunhank, he took
his departure from Friedenshtitten.

The familiar scenes of the Susquehanna were
soon lost to the view of the Moravian, as he pene
trated the forests through which his tortuous and
difficult way conducted. There was no defined
route to guide his progress. The paths which led
through the wilds, traced there by the herds that
roamed their recesses and the tawny hunters that
made prey of them, were devious and uncertain.
Obstacles, seemingly insurmountable, interposed
to impede his advance. Rivers intercepted his
course ; marshes lay before him, whose miry soil
at every step sank under his feet ; dense thickets
had to be pierced, and great plains to be traversed,
thick with rank grasses that lifted their closely-
clustering spears high above his head. Day after

100 BLACK-ROBES.

day he toiled laboriously on, to be rewarded at
night with such rest as, stretched on the bare
ground and wrapped in his blanket, he might best
secure, under the pouring rain that fell almost in
cessantly during the weeks of his travel. But the
indomitable missionary persevered. On the i6th
of October he reached the Alleghany. The vil
lages of Goschgoschuenk were before him ; the
Beautiful Valley was under his feet, and his jour
ney was ended.

Zeisberger found the Indians at the Place of
Hogs, — as the true interpretation of the name
makes it, not inappropriately, — ignorant, depraved,
and heathenish ; utterly given over to shameful and
diabolical superstitions. " Satan," he says, in his
report, "has here his great power; he even seems
to have established his throne in this place." The
novelty of the Moravian worship, however, proved
attractive, and the religious exercises held at his
lodge were largely attended. The first, and, in
deed, the only one of his hearers, during this pre
paratory visit, to become " powerfully awakened,"
was a blind old chief, Allemewi, of the Delawares,
who from the day of his arrival had manifested a
friendly interest in the missionary and in his work.
Zeisberger, after a short stay, went back to Bethle
hem, but, in May of the next year, returned again,
bringing with him an assistant brother, Gottlob
Senseman, together with three families of native
converts from Friedenshiitten, and, building a log

THE MORAVIAN. IOI

cabin at the outskirts of the central village of the
three which constituted the town of Goschgosch-
uenk, established himself in the place. Fairly
domiciled in his new home, the missionary entered,
without delay, on his work. Chapel services were
instituted, and observed daily. "Preaching" was
held at noon; morning and evening meetings were
assembled, where prayers were offered, and hymns,
the composition of the Brother himself, sung in
their own language to his Delaware hearers. The
savages, in their best of holiday finery, with their
faces freshly painted in black and vermilion, and
their heads garnished with fox-tails and tufts of
feathers, attended in crowds and participated in the
exercises with gravity and decorum. For some
time these services were allowed to go on with
out interruption or hinderance. Interest began
to awaken in the hearts of the people, and the
Brethren were comforted with the prospect of
profitable results soon to be realized from their
efforts. But bitter disappointments were in re
serve for them.

The captains of the tribe, a cabalistic order, in
one sense, professing the knowledge of certain
secret, supernatural arts, — arts by which the popu
lace were persuaded that waters were poisoned and
sickness engendered in the camps of their enemies,
and to which the initiated were indebted for their
eminent influence, — apprehensive that the conver
sion of any one of their class to the new doctrine
9*

102 BLACK-ROBES.

would lead to a confession of the deceit by which
their practices were accomplished, began, upon the
first symptoms of success, to open their batteries
of attack against the missionaries. Converts, it
was charged, were enticed into the communion to
be made slaves of, and the deceived would learn,
to their grief, that baptism was the seal of perpetual
bondage. The King of England, it was declared,
had written letters, warning against the Brethren
as emissaries of the devil, who would lead their
dupes straight to hell. The inspired teachers, the
sorcerers, and the medicine- men were called to the
rescue.

" Come to Jesus, who bled and died for you,"
Zeisberger would affectionately exhort. " Call on
Him for mercy, that He may deliver you from the
power of Satan."

" I have been intimately acquainted with Jesus
for some time," Wangomen, a defender of his faith,
would rejoin ; " I have enjoyed a familiar inter
course, indeed, with Him these many years, and He
never told me that He had become a man, or that
He had shed any of his blood."

Faith and repentance, as specifics for spiritual
purification, were ridiculed as chimerical and pre
posterous If the formule of the Psalmist — "Purge
me with hyssop" — had been recommended, cavil
might have been hushed, because the practice of
their own doctors of divinity could not consistently
have repudiated that herb, when themselves were

THE MORAVIAN. 103

accustomed to prescribe jalap and ipecacuanha for
the same purpose.

The old women of the villages were incited to
join in the general outcry. Because of the strange
doctrines, they said, the worms were destroying
the corn in the fields ; the deer were retreating
affrighted from the woods ; the trees were refusing
their fruits, and henceforth they might look for
chestnuts and bilberries in vain. Orators from
other towns came in, offering their eloquence on
behalf of the opposition. " Cousins," said one of
them, a Seneca chief of Zoneschio, " I perceive
that a Black-Robe has come among you. This
man will seduce you, and make you forsake your
old customs and manner of living, if you attend to
him. I advise you not to hear him, but to send
him away. If you do not, you may find him, some
day, lying dead by the wayside." The converts
were called, contemptuously, Sunday Indians, and
insulted with the degrading epithet of Shwonnaks,
or White-folks. As of their own race, and apos
tates besides from the faith of their fathers, these
unhappy ones were made the special objects of the
malice of their enemies. The abuse with which
they were visited was soon followed by violence,
till at length, driven forcibly from their cabins, they
were compelled to fly for protection to the lodge
of the missionaries.

The blind chief, Allemewi, was the only friend
the Brethren could rely on, outside of their com-

1 04 BLA CK-R OSES.

munion. He shared with them in their care of the
persecuted, and, at the same time, exerted himself
to appease the excitement of the populace. But his
efforts were unavailing. The lives of the ministers
were threatened. It was proposed that they should
be stoned, or murdered, and cast into the river.
Two of the savages were covenanted to see to the
execution of the design, but, perhaps restrained by
superstitious dread, when the hour came to admin
ister the stroke, their hearts failed them, and they
retired abashed from the presence of their intended
victims. Other conspiracies were formed to carry
out the same murderous intention, so that, to guard
against assassination, an armed watch had to be
kept up nightly about the house of the Moravians.
It was finally deemed expedient to abandon the
station. Accordingly,' Zeisberger and his colleague,
with their handful of adherents, withdrew, retiring
to the town of Lawunakhannek, some fifteen miles
below, and on the opposite side of the river.

This forced desertion of Goschgoschuenk was a
grand achievement for the captains, the sorcerers,
and the women. Wangomen, inflated with the
idea that he had been a conspicuous instrument in
the affair, was particularly jubilant. As it was in
the line of his profession, he took to the vacated
pulpit of the chapel himself at once, but having
unfortunately yielded to a besetting weakness,
and giving drunken utterance to doctrine so vile
and abominable as even to offend the ears of his

THE MORA VIAN.

105

not ever-fastidious congregation, he was dragged
from his place and summarily cast out of the sanc
tuary. Glikkikan, captain, warrior, counselor, and
speaker of Pakanke, the Delaware chief resident in
Kaskaskunk, seems to have conceived that a mis
take was made in the management of matters, and
that the case of the missionaries might have been
settled up by force of argument far more satisfac
torily than by process of violence. He had finished
the business for the Black-Robes in Canada in that
way, and did not presume that the little man from
Bethlehem was ribbed with tougher metal, that he
could long resist the penetration of his logic and
eloquence. He decided, even yet, to make the
attempt, and invited quite a party of his townsmen
to accompany him to Lawunakhannek and witness
the controversy. Conscious though he was of his
own power, he did not think it prudent to under
value that of his antagonist, and prepared himself
accordingly ; well considering beforehand what to
say, in order the more pointedly and effectually
to confound the Moravian. But the counselor had
undertaken more than he could manage. The
evidence of the Truth, through the lips of the
Brethren, fell on him with irresistible persuasion.
He acknowledged the weakness of his cause, ad
mitted its errors, and on his return to Kaskaskunk
not only confessed his discomfiture, but nobly in
dorsed the new Faith, and urged the acceptance of
the gospel on the people.

106 BLACK-ROBES.

Affairs began to wear a more promising aspect.
The uncomplaining temper of the missionaries,
their never-failing patience under whatever visita
tion of wrong or violence, commanded, at length,
the forbearance of the savages, and they were per
mitted the undisturbed enjoyment of all desirable
social and religious privileges. Comfortable houses
were built in lieu of the rude hunting-huts which
had first afforded them shelter. A chapel was
erected, graced with the extraordinary and attract
ive appendage of a bell, the gift of the friends at
Bethlehem. Presently the cheerful evidences of
well-applied industry began to appear. Grounds
were cleared, gardens were planted, and fields of
corn grew and ripened in the sun. Here, too,
under the dews of divine influence, began to spring
up the seed of a more precious sowing. The liv
ing knowledge of the Faith took root, at length,
in the hearts of the people. On the 3d of Decem
ber, three penitents, a father, mother, and child,
were admitted, through the solemn ritual of bap
tism, into the church, in the presence of a large
concourse of witnesses, all of whom were deeply
impressed with the ceremony. The occasion was
honored with the attendance of quite a company
of the villagers of Goschgoschuenk, who entered
into the spirit of the prevailing excitement very
enthusiastically, but, perhaps, with more zeal than
knowledge. So earnest were they in their ardor
that they gravely proposed to lay the question

THE MORAVIAN. IO/

before the town council, and have themselves and
their fellow-citizens legislated into the communion,
without delay; but the missionaries interposed,
letting them know that conversion must come by
the grace of God, and not by act of Assembly.
But the most interesting event of this delightful
season was the conversion of the generous-hearted,
stanch old friend of the Moravians, blind Alle-
mewi. " Brethren," said he, as at his own request
he was carried to the lodge of the missionaries,
"I can bear it no longer; I must open my mind
to you. I am convinced that I am a lost sinner,
and unless my heart shall soon receive comfort I
must die." " Come to Jesus," was the responsive
invitation ; " weary and heavy-laden as you are,
there you will find rest for your soul." His wife
and friends tried to dissuade him, but he had re
solved on his course, and on Christmas-day the
believing chief was sacramentally sealed into the
fellowship of the Unity. So were gilded the closing
hours of a year obscured with clouds and dark
ness through nearly the full measure of its circle ;
so, though the watches were long and weary, the
night of sorrows was told at last, and joy came in
the morning.

While yet congratulating themselves on their
successes, the Brethren were called on to undergo
new tribulations. Unfriendly relations had for some
time existed between ^the Seneca Indians and the
Cherokees. Late events had not mitigated the

1 08 BLA CK-R OSES.

traces of estrangement, and it scarcely needed a
petty act of outrage, which was perpetrated by the
latter, to bring the quarrel to a crisis, and precipi
tate the parties into active hostilities. Lawunak-
hannek lying in an exposed position between these
rival tribes, the Christians were left in a predica
ment of great insecurity. The excitements of war,
besides, not only precluded the possibility of ex
tending the conquests of the Faith, but were a
temptation too strong, oftentimes, for even the per
severance of the saints. When blue, typical of
peace, was the color of the day, the gospel had its
chances, but its power was paralyzed when the
hatchet was red, and warriors were abroad in black
and vermilion. In view of these facts, the Brethren
began to discuss the expediency of continuing the
mission at that place. Repeated requests to settle
in their region had been made by the prominent
men of the Delawares on the Big Beaver, seconded
warmly by Glikkikan, the captain and controver
sialist of one of their villages. Next to the settle
ments on the Muskingum, those on the Beaver
were the most populous of any within the territo
rial bounds of the Delaware Nation. The wider
sphere of usefulness presented in this field, and the
ostensible readiness of the people to receive the
Truth, were additional considerations to be taken
into account in the estimate of the question of duty.
After due deliberation it wa§ decided to make the
change. On the i/th of April, 1770,3 fleet of six-

MORAVIAN.

109

teen canoes shoved off from the river-shore ; the
little band of Moravian disciples were launched
upon their long voyage, and the mission of Lawu-
nakhannek was abandoned.

III.
THE "VILLAGE OF PEACE" ON THE BEAVER.

T)AKANKE, the chief, had summoned his sages,
JL and conference was held in the council-hall of
the Delawares on the Big Beaver. Kaskaskunk was
all astir with excitement consequent upon the arri
val of the Black-Robe of Alleghene, and his band
of emigrants, from Lawunakhannek. The wise
men were assembled to greet the strangers with a
formal reception ; a civility to which they were
hospitably entitled as invited guests, and which
was offered with more than usual ceremony because
of their distinguished quality. Zeisberger was
before the Session, attended by a few deputies, to
represent his people on the occasion. Speeches
were made and responded to ; pipes were passed in
ratification of sentiments expressed, and strings of
wampum interchanged as records, for future refer
ence, of the proceedings. The invitation to estab-
10

1 10 BLACK-ROBES.

lish a community in the neighborhood was then
officially reiterated, and a spot of ground desig
nated and dedicated to the missionaries for their
exclusive occupation.

Entered upon their new possessions, the Chris
tians began the work of improvement without
delay, and with their accustomed vigor. Fields
were cleared and planted ; huts were built, hastily
and rudely, for present occupation, and a house
completed for purposes of worship, — all for tempo
rary use, and constructed of bark. The usual rou
tine of duties was at once resumed; hours of toil,
of rest, and of worship succeeding each other, and
commanding their appropriate observances regu
larly and duly, As time wore on and the more
urgent demands of agriculture were satisfied, the
settlers turned their attention to the improvement
of their domestic accommodations. A neat and
orderly array of dwellings soon offered more com
fortable shelter to the families, and on the site and
over the ruins of the abandoned bark cabins were
planted the more permanent foundations of Lan-
guntoutenuenk, or Friedenstadt, — the Village of
Peace.

Pakanke, as has been seen, had spoken his
welcome. The terms of his address were liberal
enough, but the spirit lacked the ring of genuine cor
diality. As of the household of the Lenni-Lenape,
he inclined favorably to the Red-folk of the emigra
tion ; because of the political distinction which his

THE MORAVIAN. Ill

patronage of the Black-Robes would reflect upon
his clan, he could tolerate, nay, he might congrat
ulate himself on their presence ; but the instincts
of the savage Adam — the easily ascendant pro
pensities of ab-original sin in the man — were all
against the religion of their importation. When,
on the 1 2th of June, the example of her husband
wrought redeemingly, at length, on the rebellious
conscience of the wife of Allemewi, and she was
baptized into the communion, the chief of Kaskas-
kunk witnessed the novel ceremony with ill-con
cealed disapprobation. But when Glikkikan, his
lieutenant, brought down by conviction, craved per
mission to transfer his lodge to Friedenstadt, that
he might dwell there as one of the Congregation,
Pakanke did not hesitate to avow his displeasure.
" You," he exclaimed, " a brave and honored man,
sitting next me in council when we spread the
blanket and considered the belts of wampum, even
you would go over and forsake us j" " I would go
over to them," said the determined prime minister,
" and with them I would live and die." Then the
chief, when he found that reproach fell without
effect, and that expostulation was fruitless, began
to ply severer censures. The captain was charged
with sorcery ; he was stigmatized as a Shwonnak,
and pointed at scornfully as a recreant to the ven
erable traditions of his people. Nevertheless, with a
constancy more creditable to the orator than charac
teristic of him, he continued steadfast in his resolu-

9

112 BLACK-ROBES.

tion. The Brethren came in, as well, for their share
of the outpourings of savage wrath. Pakanke with
drew from them the protection of his countenance,
impudently denying that he had ever approved of
their emigration, or that they were settled on the
Beaver by his authority.

At this crisis, while opposition was in a fair way
to ripen soon into positive resistance, its develop
ment was unexpectedly and effectually arrested.

Col. George Croghan, delegated in 1755 by Sir
Wm. Johnston to visit the West, in order to coun
teract the hostile operations of the French and
maintain amicable relations with the Indians of
the border, had, in the sagacious discharge of his
mission, acquired a commanding influence among
the tribes. Their own amiable character, coupled
with the devotion of the Moravians to the pacific
measures which it was his policy to promote, com
mended the Society to his favorable notice, and
from the time of their first settlement on the Alle-
ghany, shortly after which he had been visited at
Fort Pitt by Zeisberger and Senseman, he had
always contributed, as occasion offered, to their
welfare. When information reached him of the
disturbances which had been excited at Frieden-
stadt, he promptly interposed in their behalf. With
much earnestness he exhorted the offended Kaskas-
kunkian to cease controversy with the Christians,
assuring him that their intentions were honor
able, and not by any means adverse to the inter-

THE MORA VIAN. 1 1 3

ests of his people. The advice of the English com
missioner caused the chief to waver in his purpose.
It so happened that just then a fatal disease raged
with great violence in the Delaware villages. The
prevalence of this epidemic was attributed to the
workings of magic, and the populace, very pliable
under a panic, were easily induced to believe that
the fatal visitation was chargeable to their rejection
of the religion of the Black-Robes. A special
meeting of the counselors of the tribe at Gekele-
mukpechuenk, or Still-Water, on the Muskingum,
was called, and, as the result of its deliberations, an
envoy was sent with a black belt of wampum of
a fathom's length, to Pakanke, and an order de
manded for a convocation of the Council. " There
is a contagion among us;" such was the purport
of the message. " Many Indians die. We shall
all die unless we have help. Convene a Council
on this belt. Whoever does not receive this belt
shall be considered as an enemy and murderer of
his people, and must be treated according to his
deserts." Pakanke was wise enough to accept the
precaution obscurely conveyed in this communica
tion. A prudent respect for consequences decided
the course for which the advice of Col. Croghan
had prepared the way. Hostilities against the
Christians ceased, and peace prevailed in Frieden-
stadt.

The career of the community was now, for some
time, one of almost uninterrupted prosperity. The
10*

II4 BLACK-ROBES.

possessions of the Brethren embraced several hun
dred acres of land, a large portion of which, lying
along the rich bottoms of the Mahoning, the She-
nango, and the Beaver, was brought under culti
vation, yielding to its industrious owners broad
and bountiful harvests. The surrounding woods
abounded in game, while the rivers furnished in
full supply their daintier tribute of pickerel, bass,
and salmon to lend a savory variety to the tables
of the households. Schools for the education of
the children were established both at Friedenstadt
and at Kaskaskunk. Workshops were set up, where
the mechanical arts were taught and put into suc
cessful practice. The raiment in which the asso
ciates clad themselves was woven in hand-looms
of their own contriving, from yarns of their own
spinning. Axe, mattock, spade, plow, all the
utensils used in the clearing, the field, and the
garden, were wrought at their own fires and on
their own anvils. Debarred of its luxuries, the
substantial provisions of life were theirs in adequate
plenty, and the former deprivation was more than
compensated in the healthy relish with which the
invigorating tasks of acquisition enabled them to
enjoy the latter.

Meanwhile the spiritual interests of the mission
were not neglected. The only damaging accusa
tion which remained unsatisfied against the Chris
tians was that their converts, by the terms of
communion, were to be relieved from the payment

THE MORA VI AN. 1 1 5

of their proportion of the national taxes, and from
rendering the customary tribute of wampum to the
chiefs. To quiet the apprehensions of the parties
particularly concerned, a formal declaration was
issued by the Brethren, to the effect that while they
would not interfere with affairs of state, nor par
ticipate in the wars that might arise, yet they were
willing to bear their share of responsibility in all
matters affecting the public welfare, save in any
case where it was contemplated to disturb the
peace of the white people or of other Indian na
tions. This announcement met with approval.
The Caesars of the tribe were satisfied, and the
missionaries had an open field for the exercise of
their labors. And now " the peace of God, brotherly
love, and a desire to cleave to and love God, our
Saviour, began to prevail most powerfully in the
Congregation." Glikkikan was moved to tears by
a discourse delivered at a daily prayer-meeting,
greatly to the disgust of the heathen, who mar
veled that a captain so valiant and so noted should
allow himself by such a display of weakness to sink
so low beneath the level of professional dignity.
But the captain clave to his conviction, and to
gether with another convert, the chieftain Genas-
kund, was admitted shortly after into the commu
nion. One after another, a son of Pakanke's among
the rest, the unregenerate were " led to accept the
gracious invitation given to all that labor and are
heavy laden." Visitors were attracted from She-

II 6 BLACK-ROBES.

nenge and other distant villages to hear the won
derful tidings in the chapel of Friedenstadt. A
wicked sorcerer from abroad, as he stood listening
to the testimony of an Indian sister, said he had a
great mind to try a few experiments of native leger
demain on her to her personal prejudice. " I do
not fear his threats," said the sister; "for if my life
were taken by such practices, I should but go home
to my Saviour." The awakening was specially
marked among the unbaptized, the catechumens,
and the children; all making confession of the
abominations of heathenism, and uniting in
earnest entreaty to God for mercy and pardon.
Another visitor, an anxious inquirer, sought to
learn which was the true way to happiness. "The
Quakers/' said he, " maintain that their doctrine is
true ; the English Church asserts the same; and the
Brethren say that theirs is the Word of God." The
reply was, — Come to Jesus ; learn to love Him, and
that will show the way. Last of all, the chief of
sinners, as well as of his tribe, Pakanke, that
sturdy adversary of the gospel, resolved to visit
Friedenstadt. He did so, tarrying there for several
days. The truth took effect upon his stubborn
conscience, and when he went back to Kaskaskunk
it was to exhort his children to do as he had done,
— go to the missionaries, listen to their words, and
learn to love Jesus.

The Moravians, however, seemed to be predes
tined victims of misfortune. They might enjoy

fHE MORAVIAN. nj

seasons of repose, when, exempt from molestation,
they could pursue their work and worship accord
ing to ordinance, but if frustrated in one scheme of
annoyance, the devil would fall back upon some
new device, so that these intervals of tranquillity
were seldom of long-uninterrupted continuance.
For pushing enterprise the whisky- trader enjoyed
a reputation second only to the trapper and the
hunter, upon whose heels, as they penetrated the
wilderness, he was sure to follow, close as their
own hounds that were trained to the attendance.
Whence his supplies of the commodity in which
he dealt were procured, and by what means trans
ported from point to point, were problems often to
puzzle the curious, but so it was that seldom a tent *
was pitched in the forest, and never a cabin reared
in the clearing, but that the keg and the cup — or
the rye straw — were conspicuously at hand to in
dicate his presence and to advertise his profession.
Zeisberger, mourning over the deplorable results
of the trade in the Susquehanna settlements, flat
tered himself that he was beyond the range of its
commercial traveler when he found himself at the
head-waters of the Alleghany, where the face of a
white man was so rare a sight that on his arrival
a courier was dispatched to the chief of the tribe,
thirty miles away, to notify him of the extraordi
nary visitation. But the peddler had preceded him.
Petroleum at four guineas a quart was a commodity
worth coveting, and the fame of the fountains at

Il8 BLACK-ROBES.

Venango was not likely to fail of being blown
abroad, and of attracting the notice of the gain-
seeking adventurer. He had ferreted out the spot.
The principal statesmen of that branch of the Dela
ware dynasty were no strangers to him, nor to his
liquor. The sachems knew a keg when they saw
it; the captains might have stood as tasters at the
tables of the connoisseurs; and so habituated to the
use of the straw were the rank and file of the
people, that prohibitory legislation was found
necessary for the maintenance of the public peace.
Savage ingenuity was quite as expert at evasions
of unpalatable laws as the wit of the keenest of
pale-faced dodgers. The chiefs, however far they
might extend their authority in secular affairs,
dared not interfere with the commons in their re
ligious ceremonies and observances. Under cover
of this right the latter took shelter, — established the
Festival of Rum, and in the celebration of it got
religiously drunk, as often as they pleased, with
impunity. As might be expected, this became at
once the favorite red-letter day- of the native calen
dar, and was in the full tide of popularity, greatly
to his surprise, when Zeisberger first appeared at
Goschgoschuenk.

The Moravians were the earliest advocates of
temperance in America. While whisky was ac
cepted as the good creature of God, and taken
to, lovingly, in all circles besides, it was denounced
by the Brethren as the chief of evils, — the prolific

THE MORAVIAN. 119

parent of vices and immoralities, — and placed under
ban of the community accordingly. As censurers
of his calling, and, more especially, as stumbling-
blocks in the way of his custom, the missionaries
were peculiarly odious in the eyes of the trader.
He traduced their religion ; he vilified their per
sonal characters; he misrepresented their motives;
he seconded the native sorcerers in their ridicu
lous, but dangerous, charges ; and, to quicken at
any time a spirit of mutiny against them, never
hesitated at the gratuitous distribution of the craz
ing element in which he dealt among the disaf
fected. But for his agency, directly and indirectly
felt, it is doubtful whether the state of affairs would
have arisen which rendered necessary the abandon
ment of the station on the Alleghany. The same
line of opposition was followed up at Friedenstadt.
Liquor was freely circulated among the populace.
The savages were incited to acts of lawlessness.
Death to the missionaries was threatened, and, on
more than one occasion, attempted. The settle
ment was invaded, now and again the intoxicated
mob assailing the houses of the inhabitants, forcing
their doors, breaking their windows, and com )e -
ling the affrighted inmates to take to the woods for
safety. The continued forbearance of the Brethren
only tempted to new aggressions, until, in the end,
riot enjoyed unbridled license, and the Village of
Peace became the scene for the sport, at pleasure,
of tumult and disorder.

120 BLACK-ROBES.

An additional grievance was in reserve for the
community. Kaskaskunk was a village of marked
importance among the Indians as a war-post,
where centered all the principal war-paths from the
North, and whence, by one common trail, passing
through Friedenstadt, communication was had with
Fort Pitt Near to the latter-mentioned town was
the Scalp Spring, — a fountain famous far and near
as the place of rendezvous commonly appointed
for the gathering of the clans when the red hatchet
was abroad and strife was in the wind. In the
spring of 1771, certain of the vindictive among the
white settlers about Fort Pitt, whose taste for car
nage seems to have been sharpened rather than
sated by former indulgence, banded together, and,
taking to the shelters along the Ohio, on the plea
of revenge for past injuries, began an inhuman
slaughter among the unoffending Indians inhabit
ing the valley. To escape the cruelties of these
rude border-men, the terrified natives deserted their
homes on the river, and fled for protection to the
interior. Their stories told of the barbarous con
duct of the pale-faces created intense excitement
among the various clansmen, who determined upon
swift and severe retaliation. A call to arms was
proclaimed among the tribes, and soon the painted
warriors began to assemble at Scalp Spring. As
of kindred color with the perpetrators of their
wrongs, the Brethren were included in the same
doom of meditated vengeance, and it was only by

THE MORAVIAN. 121

reason of strict vigilance — a constant guard of com-
.petent force being maintained about their -houses —
that they were able to protect themselves against
attempted violence. This state of affairs continu
ing, the missionaries became disheartened at their
prospects. Without peace, that cardinal principle
of their religion, of which there seemed faint pro
mise now, they could not look for prosperity. The
circumstances of their position led them to reflect
gravely upon a step which, in view of other con
siderations, they had already contemplated with
favor. The tribe of the Delaware nation settled
on the Muskingum had, for some time, been in
sisting upon the establishment of a mission within
their boundaries on that river. As afield of labor
this region had been held in high estimation since
its first visitation by Post. The natives professed
a warm regard for the Brethren ; the valleys were
fertile, and the locality, so many leagues distant
from the frontier, was, presumably, out of reach of
the bprder marauder and the whisky-trader. The
project was broached, and, after a full consultation
of its members, ultimately resolved upon by the
Congregation.

Meanwhile correspondence was held with the
Brethren in Friedenshiitten and Tschechschequan-
nink, the two settlements on the Susquehanna.
The predicament of these associations of native
Christians was similar to that of the converts of
Gnadenhiitten. They had no valid title to the lands

122 BLACK-ROBES.

they occupied, the ownership having passed, by
conveyance of their masters, the Iroquois, to the
English, who in their eagerness after the bargain
did not stop to inquire into the honesty of its
transaction. Besides, their situation was precarious
from the fact that, lying in the debatable territory
dividing the contestants, they were exposed to the
ravages of both parties in the skirmishes that were
continually springing up between the whites and
the savages. To tarry where they were, with a
way of escape open, was to resist a plain indication
of duty. When, therefore, the invitation from the
Muskingum, which had been extended to them
through their friends on the Beaver, was received,
they accepted it without hesitation " as proceeding
from a gracious direction of the providence of
God."

And now were to sink into final extinguishment
the fires on the hearths of the native converts in
the valleys, where so long they had lived, and
toiled, and worshiped together. Their cottages
were to be forsaken, their fields abandoned, their
sanctuaries left desolate; and for the protection
— the forbearance, rather — which the invaders of
their soil, disciples avowedly of the same faith with
themselves, were not willing to lend, were they to
be indebted to the charity of unbelieving barbarians.

THE MORAVIAN. 123

IV.

THE JOURNEY THROUGH THE WILDERNESS.

THE sacrament of the Lord's Supper was cele
brated with unusual solemnity at Friedens-
hiitten, on the 6th of June, 1772. Nine years
before, John Papunhank, the first native convert
on the Susquehanna, had been baptized into the
death of Jesus. This last Sabbath of the occupa
tion of the village was to be made equally memo
rable by the admission of his daughter, through
the same rite, into the communion of the church.
By the following Friday the preparations of the
people were completed, and after religious services
in the chapel, where praise and thanksgiving were
offered to God for past favors and blessings, and
his protecting presence implored to attend them
on the journey, they started upon their distant
pilgrimage.

The emigrants, two hundred and forty-one in
number, were divided into two companies ; one,
led by the Rev. John Ettwein, to proceed by
land, the other, under direction of the missionary
John Rothe, by water. The clothing and lighter
household furniture were carried, chiefly, on pack-
horses ; but when these animals, with which they
were inadequately provided, were fully loaded,

1 24 BLA CK-R OBES.

stores of valuables remained, too precious to be
left. These were gathered into bundles and borne
upon the shoulders of the men and women. Among
the rest thus burdened was one; a mother, who
carried her crippled son, a helpless child of eight
or ten years of age, in a basket strapped on her
back. Seventy head of cattle brought up the rear
of the procession. The more cumbrous articles
of value, such as plowshares, harrow-teeth, mat
tocks, axes, and the like, together with pots and
kettles of brass and iron for domestic uses, with
others of larger capacity for sugar-making pur
poses, were stowed in boats, to accompany the
party that was to go by water, under charge of
Brother Rothe.

The navigation of the Susquehanna was difficult
and dangerous. The restless current of the river,
now tumbling in cascades, now tossing in wild
floods along the rugged slopes of its channel,
seriously interrupted their passage. To stem its
tide required the steady aid of oar, and pole, and
line, and to avoid the attending risks to the keels
of the vessels, unceasing vigilance. Progress could
be attempted only by day. At twilight the flotilla
would seek the shore, where, with such shelter from
the inclement weather as the chances of the scene
of bivouac afforded, the weary crews would retire
for rest and cover through the night. To add to
their trials, the measles broke out among them ;
many, especially of the children, suffering severely

THE MORAVIAN.

125

from the malady. So they advanced until, on the
29th of June, after a voyage of nearly three weeks,
they reached Great Island, in the West Branch
of the Susquehanna. Here they were met by the
band under conduct of Brother Ettwein, and hence
the united company resumed its march by land.

The trail which they followed, scarcely distin
guishable at times, led through forests that seemed
interminable, through thickets that could scarcely
be penetrated, and over streams that were crossed
with great labor, while during the greater part of the
journey the rains fell almost incessantly. Venom
ous reptiles infested the way. Several of the horses
were lost at different times from the bite of rattle
snakes, Brother Ettwein himself narrowly escaping
the same fate, having accidentally trodden upon
one with fifteen rattles that lay coiled among the
bushes. Much annoyance was experienced from
the vicious assaults of certain small insects called
Ponks, or Living Ashes, by the Indians. In one
locality especially, known as Ponks-uteney, or the
Habitation of the Sand-fly, they abounded, so that
the air was filled by them as with a mist. They
were particularly tormenting to the horses and
cattle, who, when the evening fires were lighted,
would rush toward the flames and stand amid the
smoke for protection against their attacks. The
native legend accounting for the origin of this insect
states that, once upon a time, a wicked hermit, who
was a magician, made his abiding-place amid the
ii*

126 BLACK-ROBES.

rocks there, and spent his days in alarming, and
occasionally murdering, unsuspecting travelers who
happened to pass that way. A certain warrior
undertook to rid the region of the mischievous re
cluse, sought him out, and, having dispatched him,
burnt his bones and scattered their dust in the air.
But though the magician was disposed of, the curse
was scarcely abated, for of all the ashes sown to the
wind, each separate particle became a thing of life,
winged and fanged, to hover around and visit re
venge, through time to come, upon the race of his
destroyer. Several of the emigrants died during
the journey. The crippled boy who had been car
ried on his mother's back, after having long borne
up under the fatigue of the march, sickened at last
and began to sink rapidly. Conscious that his end
was at hand, the child asked to be baptized. His
request was granted, and none 'too soon ; for within
a few hours subsequently his spirit was caught away,
and its wasted frame committed to the mould.

Throughout their dreary pilgrimage the re
ligious duties to which they were accustomed
were never forgotten or neglected. Morning and
evening their wonted social devotions were duly
observed. Prayers were said, praises sung, and
words of exhortation delivered with constant regu
larity. Nor did they fail to invite those among
whom they fell along their route to participate in
their services. "They had no greater satisfaction
than to tell their fellow-men, from the experience

THE MORAVIAN. 127

of their own hearts, how happy that man is who
believes in Jesus."

On the 2Qth of July they reached the Alleghany
River. Canoes were here prepared, in which the
heavier goods, together with the aged and infirm
of their number, were placed for easier conveyance
to their destination. Near this point they were met
by Brother Heckewelder, with men and horses from
the Beaver, under whose escort they proceeded
now, until, on the 5th of August, they were saluted
with the greetings of the Brethren at Friedenstadt.

Arrived among their friends, the emigrants tar
ried while a deputation, headed by Papunhank,
started for Gekelemukpechuenk to complete ar
rangements preparatory to the general movement
of the body to the Muskingum. Matters having
been satisfactorily adjusted, the march was soon
resumed, and continued until, in due time and
without interruption, its point of destination was
reached. A few months later, in April of the
succeeding year, they were followed by the Con
gregation at Friedenstadt. Two settlements were
made on the Muskingum, — Schonbrunn, the Beau
tiful Spring, two hundred miles from its mouth, and
Gnadenhiitten, composed of the Mohicans among
the emigrants, ten miles lower down the river.

The communities, with accustomed energy, fell
to work without delay to establish themselves
comfortably in their new homes. Their villages
were carefully and regularly laid out ; wide streets

128 BLACK-ROBES.

were opened, with fences thrown across at either
end, so that the cattle might be excluded and per
fect cleanliness secured in these public thorough
fares. Chapels were erected, — imposing edifices
in the eyes of the people, with their solid walls
of square-hewn logs, their shingled roofs, their
belfries, and their bells! School-houses were
built. Fields, inclosed with rail fences, were made
ready for the plow, and gardens, surrounded with
palings, for the spade. Fruit-trees were planted,
and ornamental shrubbery set out about the
houses. The results of their industry were soon
the wonder and admiration of their ignorant and
thriftless neighbors, as the cultivated soil shot up its
growth of corn, and the pasture-lands filled with
increasing herds of cattle, of horses, and of hogs.

Rules were adopted by the Congregations for
the maintenance among them of fitting discipline.
They were to know no other God than He who
created and redeemed them ; to rest from all labors
on Sunday, and punctually attend its stated ser
vices of worship ; to honor their parents and sup
port them in their old age ; and to be obedient to
their teachers, industrious, truthful, and peaceable.
They were to renounce all juggles, lies, and de
ceits of the devil ; not to use Trchappicli, that is
witchcraft, in hunting ; nor to attend dances, sacri
fices, or heathenish festivals. No thieves, murder
ers, drunkards, adulterers, or whoremongers were
to be allowed fellowship with them. They were

THE MORAVIAN. 129

each to have but one wife, who was to be obedient
to her husband, take care of the children, and be
cleanly in all things. The use of rum was pro
hibited. They were not to run in debt, nor to
purchase goods knowing them to be stolen ; and,
finally, no man inclining to go to war — which is
the shedding of blood — could remain among them.
These rules were regularly read before the churches
at the commencement of each year, and no one
refusing assent to them could be received into the
brotherhood.

The labors of the missionaries were not restricted
to the new Christian settlements. Zeisberger made
a tour among the Shawanese, who, contrary to
his expectations, bearing in mind their illiberal
behavior on the other side of the mountains, re
ceived him with much kindness. At Waketameki,
fifty miles below Schonbrunn, on the river, he met
with a son of the old chief Paxnous, the bearer of
the threatening message of the Iroquois to the
Brethren at Gnadenhiitten on the Mahanoy, who
entertained him generously, and inclined a com
plaisant ear to his spiritual counsel. His recom
mendation secured the missionary a friendly re
ception from the heathen teacher of the principal
town of the tribe to which he next directed his
steps. A room was fitted up specially for his use,
where he daily unfolded the mystery of godliness
to large and attentive audiences. Nor were the
words of inspiration presented in vain. " I believe,"

'130 BLA CK-R OSES.

testified the teacher, touched by his eloquence,
" that all you preach is truth. A year ago I be
came convinced that we were altogether sinful
creatures, but we did not know what to do to gain
eternal salvation. Now you are come, and I verily
believe that God has sent you to make his word
known to us."

As their reverend visitor was about leaving, the
chiefs and council, through the lips of the teacher,
delivered a parting message. They rejoiced that
he had come among them, bringing the word of
God, which they had heard with pleasure. They
had convened together, and after full deliberation
had passed a resolution unanimously. True, the
women were not present, being engaged at the
time in gathering in the crops ; but that did not
signify, for what the men agreed upon they would
undoubtedly assent to. They had resolved to re
ceive the word of God, and desired that a Black-
Robe would come and dwell with them, and teach
them how they might be saved. An official decla
ration of such a spirit from the council of a tribe
whose sympathies had all along been regarded as
irreclaimably at variance with the spirit of the
gospel, particularly as interpreted by the Mora
vians, was as unexpected as it was gratifying to
Zeisberger. His visits were repeated, and precious
results might have ensued but for the public ex
citements which presently arose to unsettle the
repose of the people, and to bar the way thus aus-

THE MORAVIAN. 131

piciously opened for the introduction of the faith
among this gentile nation.

The missionary next directed his attention to
Gekelemukpechuenk, the Delaware capital ori
the Muskingum. His preaching there told with
effective power on many of its inhabitants. Ech-
palawehund, an eminent chief, was among the con
verts. His renunciation of heathenism produced
quite a stir in the town. The enemies of Chris
tianity cried out vehemently against the act, and
were for banishing the Brother, as the cause of it,
from the country. Why, said they, should this
pale-faced palaverer be allowed to come and un
settle the peace of the people ? They had lived
contentedly enough while they had clung to their
inherited belief and followed the good old Indian
customs, and now they were told that these cus
toms were sinful, and that their sacrifices were an
abomination in the sight of God. Were they to
submit to the innovation — to allow their rites to be
openly scorned, the religion of their fathers to be
slandered, and their captains to be bewitched —
without resistance or protest ?

A council was called, which continued in session
over the question for three days. The friends of
the Moravians were found to outnumber their ad
versaries, and it was finally resolved, that while the
natives of Still-Water were not willing to adopt or
approve of all the usages peculiar to the Unity,
they would, nevertheless, change their manner of

1 32 BLACK-ROBES.

living ; prohibit drunkenness, abandon their other
vices, and not allow whisky-traders, who were the
authors of all wickedness, to enter their town. In
proof of their sincerity in the matter involved in
the last item of their resolution, they seized upon
the stock of a traveling dealer who happened to be
in the place, broke open the casks, and emptied
their contents into the street. The work of reforma
tion was complete — while it lasted ; but such a
wholesale waste of good liquor was a trial that
savage virtue could not stand the test of more than
once. The sacrifice was never repeated. Other
traders, ignorant, or careless, of the unfortunate ex
ample of him who had fared so haplessly, entered
again the forbidden limits, and the beverage soon
offered as freely and was as popular as ever.

One of his old adversaries at this crisis turned up
again to oppose his work and offer annoyance to
Zeisberger, — Wangomen, the prophet of Gosch-
goschuenk. Wangomen was good on the stump, —
a fluent talker, a finished hyperbolist, of bold elo
quence, and apt at the tricks of his profession ; but
the orator had a penchant for liquor, and under its
stimulus was, too often for his reputation, tempted
in his declamation to overleap the bounds of dis
cretion, as on this occasion. His language was
lofty, his argument was bold. Was this an emer
gency calling for a sound defense of the religion of
their ancestors ? The Place of Hogs had provided
them with the champion for the task. Common

THE MORAVIAN. 133

prophets there were, who had been near enough
to heaven to hear the cocks crow, and to see the
smoke of the chimneys of the celestial cabins, but
he had his home in the side of the Deity, where
he was accustomed to walk in and out at pleasure.
What he had to say, therefore, might be regarded
as authoritatively spoken. Zeisberger's God had
become a man, and died. This could not be the
true God, or he, the orator, would have been ac
quainted with the circumstance, as he had never
been away from paradise long enough, at any time,
not to have noticed so extended an absence. How
would the Black-Robe have them seek for salva
tion ? Faith, as a means, might do for the pale
face; ipecac was the medicine for the red man.
The former was too mysterious in its use to be
relied on ; they could have an active consciousness
— one that ought to satisfy of its efficacy — in the
workings of the other.

Zeisberger replied that the God whom Wango-
men preached, and whose servant he was, was no
other than the devil, the father of lies; that his con
ception of the Great Spirit was a contemptible one,
and that his views of the disease of sin were as ridic
ulous as the nostrum proposed for its eradication.

A Mohican hearer arose to testify in the mis
sionary's behalf. He had been afflicted to that de
gree that nothing could comfort him. He had no
rest day or night, and, driven by distraction, had
left his wigwam and taken to the woods. His

12

134

BLACK-ROBES.

friends suggested ipecac, as Wangomen had done.
He had given the emetic an honest trial. It had
dispossessed him of his dinner, but not of his
despondency. Then, giving heed to the advice
of the Black-Robe, he had lifted up his voice to
the newly-revealed Divinity, imploring, "O God!
who madest all things, I know not where Thou
art, but I have heard that Thou dwellest in heaven :
take my sorrow and grief from me !" His prayer
was heard ; the burden was lifted from his heart,
and he was comforted. The controversy resulted
in the palpable defeat of the heathen orator.

Notwithstanding the resistance of the native
teachers, and the more bitter opposition of the
whisky-traders, who, venturously penetrating the
waste places beyond the border, had not allowed
themselves to be distanced, as has been seen, by
the enterprise of the Brethren, the work to which
the missionaries had consecrated themselves went
steadily on. Villages, near and remote, among
the Shawanese as well as the Delawares, were
visited; many of the prominent men, especially of
the latter tribe, were converted ; the gospel was
preached in the Great Council of trfe capital ;
White-Eye, the historically-famous chief captain
of the tribe, with his staff-officers, Netawatwees
and Gelelemend, or Killbuck, — the appellation by
which he is locally remembered, — became advo
cates of the faith ; heathen usages dropped into
disrepute; equal rights and privileges with those

THE MORAVIAN. 135

enjoyed by the rest of the people were accorded
the Christians, and the missionaries were granted
full liberty to exercise the functions of their office,
without molestation or interference. To crown
the happy achievements of this reformatory move
ment, the nation, by the act of council assembled
at Goschachguenk, the new capital, — Gekelemuk-
pechuenk having been abandoned (1774), — formally
resolved to receive the gospel. An embassy was
dispatched to Schonbrunn, bearing an address in
which this determination was set forth, and pray
ing the missionaries that they might have a new
town built, "that those of their people who be
lieved might have a place of refuge ;" not a town
for the aged and grown folk only, but chiefly, rather,
for the young people and children ; for it was their
intention "that this establishment should last as
long as Indians exist." A suitable spot was chosen
on the east side of the Muskingum, three miles
below the capital, and the new settlement of Lich-
tenau (1775) was established.

The mission was now in the full noon of pros
perity. Although, from the unwholesome expo
sures attending the opening up of their settlements
out of the rank wilderness, many of the faithful had
sickened and died, yet, at the occupation of Lich-
tenau, their membership amounted to four hundred
and fourteen souls. Schools, provided with books
translated into the Delaware tongue, by Zeisberger,
for the use of the children, were maintained in each

1 36 BLA CK-R OBES.

of their towns. The public preaching of the gospel
was regularly observed. The warriors of the tribes
gathered in throngs at the chapels. The sick, the
bedridden, women in dolore laboris, and travelers
arrested on their way by sudden illness, begged to
be carried to the missionaries, that they might be
comforted'in their extremity by the hopeful assur
ances of inspiration. The future presented a pros
pect luminous with promise, and the hearts of the
Brethren were glad as they looked to the seem
ingly near fulfillment of their fondest anticipations.
But these anticipations were not to be realized.

V.

TROUBLE AT WORK IN THE TENTS ON THE MUS-
KINGUM.

IN the month of May, 1774, a hunting-party of
Indians, with their wives and children, planted
their temporary lodges at the mouth of Yellow
Creek, opposite Baker's Bottom, on the Ohio. A
backwoodsman of the name of Greathouse visited
the encampment in an ostensibly friendly manner,
and invited the party to join him in a drink. They
retired, for this purpose, to the cabin of an acquaint
ance of Greathouse's, of the name of Baker. Here
they were plied with liquor until brought help-

THE MORAVIAN. 137

lessly under its influence, when they were set upon
by their host and treacherously massacred.

The sister and other relatives of Tah-ga-jute, — a
Mingo, more commonly known, in connection with
a famous speech of very doubtful authenticity, as
Logan, — were among the victims of this outrage.
Intelligence of the calamity having reached the ears
of the Mingo, who, at the time, was on his way to
Pittsburg to " brighten" his friendship with the offi
cers of the garrison there, his feelings were excited
to an intense degree. He had hitherto been the
friend of the white man. The door of his cabin
had been always open to receive him, and shelter,
food, and drink freely offered for his entertainment.
This act of viperous ingratitude was his reward !
Stung to the quick at a requital so cruel, he dis
carded from his bosom the last sentiment of com
passion, and pledged himself to revenge.

As the story of the massacre was carried abroad
and told in the villages of the tribes, a correspond
ing fury inflamed the hearts of the natives. The
Shawanese and Mingos organized into companies,
and, making for the Virginia border, began to deal
bloody retribution on the isolated white inhabitants
of that newly-occupied region. The successful
issue of one adventure whetted the appetite for
another, and so, with fresh eagerness and increas
ing activity, the incursions continued.

The Delawares were strongly urged to join in
the rising. Means, open and secret, were employed
12*

1 3 8 BLA CK-R OBES.

to force them into co-operation. Entreaty, menace,
derision, were resorted to in turn, and with a de
cided prospect of success. The younger warriors,
when their manhood was appealed to, when they
were threatened to be branded as cowards and
repudiated as Shwonnaks, became restive, and de
manded of their elders that they should be per
mitted to take up arms. The chiefs and captains
resisted the pressure- as best they could, compromis
ing the demand, which they dared not deny and
would not grant, by postponing action upon it from
day to day, and maintaining meanwhile a position
of neutrality. This indecisive policy of the council
was attributed to the influence of the missionaries,
against whom the enraged insurgents began to
direct their attacks. Armed bands on their way
to and from the border would parade the streets
of Schonbrunn and Gnadenhiitten, exciting the
alarm of the inhabitants by demonstrations of
violence as they went, or filling them with horror
at the ghastly display of the bleeding proofs of
achievement on their return. Fire and slaughter
were threatened against the Congregations. An
army of a thousand men, it was said, was organ
ized among the Shawanese, who were presently to
march down on the Muskingum towns, and if the
Christians refused to enter their ranks the lives
of all were to be forfeited, and the places of their
habitation made waste and desolate. Again, it was
reported that the Virginians, supported by a strong

THE MORAVIAN. 139

body of troops, sent out by the governor of that
province, were under way, and that they had sig
nified their intention to destroy all the villages,
beginning with those of the converts on the " Elk-
Eye," between the river and the lakes.

By the advice of his colleagues, Brother Rothe,
with his wife and two children, retiring from the
scene of disturbance, withdrew to Pittsburg, and
thence, shortly afterwards, -to Bethlehem. The
rest of the missionaries tarried resolutely at their
posts. Precarious as was their predicament in the
passage of these events, manifold and imminent as
were the perils to which they were exposed, the
Congregations were mercifully preserved the while,
without the loss of a life. The rising was sup
pressed early in the ensuing autumn, and quiet
once again restored, through the valor of the Vir
ginia troops, in an action on, or near, the Kanawha.

Disabled by defeat, the savages retired from the
contest, but not with a mind to rest tamely under
the surrender. Though overcome, they were not
subdued, and the terms of submission to which
they ass nted, it was mentally reserved, should be
respected just as far as must be, and no further.
Let a fair prospect of success open anew, and they
were ready to lift the hatchet and take to the war
path at a moment's warning. They had not long
to wait.

Although distantly removed from the scenes of
its principal military operations, the yeomanry of

140

BLACK-ROBES.

the border were none the less enthusiastically
aroused, nor a whit more dilatory in their resolve
to take up the rifle for the national defense in the
great Revolutionary struggle, than, within the more
immediate line of action, were the patriotic colo
nists inhabiting the older, settlements along the
sea-shore. Aware of the vast importance of the
acquisition, both parties in the contest were alike
anxious to command the good will — if possible,
the co-operation — of the Indians, and for this pur
pose had their emissaries early abroad and actively
at work. The result was as might have been an
ticipated. Cherishing the recollection of their
wrongs, and eager in the hope, under the proposed
alliance, of a more prosperous faring in a new
attempt at retaliation, the Shawanese were won,
with scarce a wooing, to the side of the British.
Similar motives had their weight in bringing about
a like decision on the part of the Iroquois and
Hurons.

The concurrence of the Delawares was all that
was needed to complete a general confederacy, and
place the tribes of the wilderness, as an undivided
body, in hostile attitude against the colonies. All
the arts and devices which "untutored" ingenuity
could invent were employed to invite — to entrap —
to force them into the combination. Their patriot
ism was appealed to, their pride, their fiercer pas
sions, and particularly, as the most feasible point
of approach, their fears. " Keep your shoes in

THE MORAVIAN. 141

readiness," came a warning message from the Hu-
rons, " to join the warriors." Following the herald
that bore it arrived an embassy of twenty deputies,
who, with a thrice-repeated offer of the war-belt,
demanded their assistance, declaring that all the
nations besides, below and beyond Lake Erie, were
united as one man for the fight. Again, the action
of a general council held in Detroit was published
throughout their towns, where, without a dissent
ing voice, it had been resolved that the hatchet
should fall on the head of every one who refused
to take it up. No neutrals were to be tolerated.
To intimidate them further, reports were circulated
that a general had arrived in Pittsburg, on his
way to the Muskingum, who was resolved to
destroy the whole race, without quarter to any
red man, friend or foe, heathen or Christian. A
trio of white renegades, notorious in border his
tory, Simon Girty, Alexander McKee,and Matthew
Elliott, visited the villages, and, repeating the lying
rumors which had already been put afloat, stated
that it was the fixed intention of the Virginians,
after having first persuaded the Indians, by false
but fine-sounding representations, into a sense of
security, to take advantage of their confidence and
commit wholesale slaughter upon them all. The
traitors then exhorted them to rise, and turn out to
a man against the intruders ; not to suffer them to
cross the Ohio, but to fall upon them wherever
they should be found, or their country would be

1 42 BLACK-ROBES.

lost to its legitimate owners forever. The state
ments thus propagated had their effect.

Captain Pipe, a Delaware hatchet-bearer of in
fluence, had all along bitterly contended against
the introduction of Christianity into his tribe. His
wife, a prophetess of the Wangomen school, for
some time shared with him in his opposition,
openly protesting that the missionaries were de
ceivers, and that their religion was false, as she
ought to know, who had been in the mansions
of the Spirits and seen the strawberries and the
bilberries, as large as apples and in great plenty,
that flourished in the Elysian gardens ; but being
present, on a certain occasion, at the baptism of a
child, "the Holy Ghost labored powerfully on her
conscience," and she was converted. Her change
of heart, instead of appeasing the malevolence of
her husband, only confirmed him the more in his
hostility. He conspired with the mischief-mongers
of the Shawanese to breed disaffection among the
young men of the nation. He obtained a supre
macy over the Monseys, a discontented and trou
blesome tribe of his own people, a party of whom,
at his instigation, visited Schonbrunn and attempted
to sow the seed of dissension among its inhabitants.
He visited the converts in person, and by continued
endeavors tried as he could to unsettle their con
victions and bring them back to their old supersti
tions. Unhappily, his labors were too successful.
Newallike, a chief who had come from the Susque-

THE MORA VI AN. 143

hanna to join the Brotherhood, yielding to the
tempter, relapsed into heathenism, followed in his
apostasy by quite a band of seceders from among
the believers. So great, indeed, was the defection,
and so unmistakable were the demonstrations of
violence growing out of it, that Brother Hecke-
welder, who had charge of the Congregation, with
the faithful few left of his flock, abandoned the
town, after having torn down the chapel to prevent
its desecration, and retired to Lichtenau.

But, adroitly as the plans of Captain Pipe were
managed, the interests of peace and good order, on
the other hand, were not left to languish for lack
of good championship. Netawatwees, the head
chief of the nation, wielded steadily the high influ
ence at his control in that direction while he lived,
and it was while on a mission, in pursuance of the
same policy, to Tamanend (Col. George Morgan,
the excellent Indian agent), at Pittsburg, that he
unfortunately died. The vacancy which he left in
the council of his people, however, was equally well
supplied, at least, by Coquehagechton, or White-
Eye, the chief of the captains, than whom there was
not a man among the rulers of the Lenni-Lenape
of more commanding authority. Indeed, it was to
his interference, pressed with uncompromising de
termination, that the Christians were indebted for
the restoration of the favor of the head chief, which
at one time, through the machinations of their ene-

o

mies, he had been induced to withdraw. At the

144 BLACK-ROBES.

present crisis White-Eye not only declared against
intermeddling at all, as a nation, in the quarrels
prevailing, but insisted that the Christian Indians
and their teachers, against whom the ill will of the
war-party was especially directed, should be 'guar
anteed full safety and protection. While he was
willing to bear the opprobrium of being considered
weak-kneed as regarded troublous complications
outside, he at the same time let it be clearly un
derstood that he would not be slow to draw his
knife in defense of the just privileges of his people,
without regard to creed, among themselves. Ri
valry, as a consequence, grew hot and high between
the contending parties.

Wars are always popular — in their kindling pro
cess ; during the period of new buttons and fresh
paint, of foils and blank cartridges, and while the
rule of misrule is tolerated (the better to entice re
cruits) at mustering-stations, along thoroughfares,
and in camps. The savage, neither more nor less
human, or inhuman, than his pale-faced brother,
is captivated as readily by the pomp and cir
cumstance of military preparation as the most
exemplary Christian that ever put on cockade,
or paraded a highway, or drained a tankard, on
the eve of a crusade. Captain Pipe, hence, as
the leading spirit of the belligerent interest, was
the popular favorite; but White-Eye possessed
the counter-advantage of an all-prevailing in
fluence among the men of chosen character who

THE MORAVIAN. 145

i

directed the counsels and shaped the policy of
the tribes.

The arrival of Girty was a godsend to Pipe. His
declarations as to the hostile intentions of the Vir
ginians were taken as confirmatory of what had
been urged all along by the captain, but which,
from a well-known proclivity of the witness, had
been received with some degree of allowance, and,
to that extent, failed in the desired effect. The
people were exasperated, and grew clamorous for
war. Guerrilla bands were organized; plundering
excursions undertaken ; retreats of hunters, and
trappers, and traders sought out, despoiled, and
devastated ; and death by rifle-shot and blow of
tomahawk dealt upon more than one among the
surprised border-men.

Affairs were on the verge of irretrievable dis
order, when White-Eye called a general council
of the nation. The wise men of the tribes assem
bled, and before them the chief of the captains
arose, and pleaded eloquently in the behalf of
peace. His hearers would not be entirely per
suaded. Finding that, for the present, nothing
better could be accomplished, he earnestly advised
against undue haste ; urging, before resolving on
a final decision, for a delay of ten days, that so
much time at least might be allowed for further in
formation — from Tamanend at Pittsburg, possibly ;
at all events, irom some source more worthy of
confidence than Girty or either of his fellows.

146 BLACK-ROBES.

The captain charged, in reply, that White-Eye
was in secret league with the Virginians, and that
it was in the interest of these his friends — enabling
them thereby the less hurriedly and more effect
ually to complete their plans — that the postpone
ment of action was proposed. He closed his speech
with the offer of a resolution to the effect " that
every man should be declared an enemy to the
nation who should throw an obstacle in the way
that might tend to prevent the taking up arms
immediately."

So pointed an impeachment of his loyalty — for
it was evidently aimed at him — provoked an impas
sioned rejoinder from White-Eye. " If you mean to
go out in earnest," said he, " you shall not go with
out me. I have advocated peace measures to save
the nation from destruction; but if you believe me
wrong, and are determined to give more credit to
vagabond fugitives, whom you know to be such,
then your decision is mine; I shall be with you — not
like the bear-hunter," with a scornful glance at Cap
tain Pipe, " who sets the dogs on the animal to be
beaten about with his paws, while he keeps at a safe
distance. No; I will myself lead you on,— place
me in the front, — and be the first to fall in the fight.
You have only to determine on whatj^sw will do,"
he concluded. " My mind is made up not to sur
vive my nation ; for I would not spend the remainder
of a miserable life in bewailing the total destruction
of a brave people who deserve a better fate."

THE MORAVIAN. 147

The orator gained his point ; Pipe's resolution
failed ; the ten days' delay was granted. And now
the opposing parties, in tremulous suspense, as in
consistent rumor from time to time gave tongue
to dubious tidings, awaited the issue of the truce.
Again and again the sun rose and set ; again and
again morning brightened into noon, noon deep
ened into dark ; night and light followed in their
order, until the skies of the east were goldening
in the dawn of the ninth day, and still no message
from Tamanend, — no assurances, for better or for
worse, from their white friends at Pittsburg. The
war-faction was jubilant. The encampments in the
neighborhood of the towns grew hideous with the
noise of revelry ; the rattle of drums and the storm
of voices mingled discordantly in the chant of their
battle-songs. The Feast of Dogs — a repast sacred
to the savage Mars, and only partaken of on the
eve of a campaign — was prepared. The heads of
the warriors were shaved afresh, their faces be
smeared with red and black, their scalp -locks
anointed with tallow and tipped with the white
plumage from the crest of the eagle, while all
about the dusky masses thronged and pressed and
roared, active in the busy, boisterous engagements
of ready-making for the war-path.

It so happened that the Brethren at Bethlehem,
anxious about the missionaries, from whom for
several months they had received no intelligence,
had commissioned two of their number — Hecke-

I48 BLACK-ROBES.

welder, with them on a visit, and John Shabosh —
t:> proceed, if possible, to the Muskingum, but, at
all events, as far as Pittsburg, ascertain their situa
tion, and, as circumstances indicated the need, to
provide for their relief. Arriving at Pittsburg, they
were first informed of the critical state of affairs in
the Indian country; how that Girty had fled there,
and was striving by false representations to incite
the savages to insurrection, and how Colonel Mor
gan, and the officers with him, had tried to send
messages of peace to the Delawares, but inef
fectually, the runners whom they would have
employed declining the service, through fear of
roving gangs of insurgents that infested the wil
derness. Heckewelder was advised against pur
suing his journey; but in view of the consequence
of his mission, — deemed all the more important
because of the very reasons pressed against its
prosecution, — he decided, with his colleague, upon
the venture.

At eleven o'clock at night on the third day after
bidding adieu to their friends at Pittsburg, merci
fully conducted by the hand of Providence through
the perilous exigencies of the way, the reverend
envoys reached Gnadenhiitten in safety. Being
informed of the proceedings of council, and that
to-morrow only intervened before the final day of
the term of suspension agreed upon, after a brief rest
they arose at three o'clock next morning, mounted
fresh horses, swam the Muskingum, and, pushing

THE MORAVIAN.

149

speedily forward, in the course of a few hours
halted within view of Goschachguenk.

Great was the chagrin, not to say mortification,
of Captain Pipe at this inopportune arrival. He
could readily calculate, without waiting for its de
velopment, upon the result, — defeat to his plans,
demolishment to his expectations, shame and ca
lamity to himself. The reaction would be sudden
and not agreeable to contemplate when the war
riors found that they had been duped by his repre
sentations ; that their revelries were premature,
their recourse to paint and tallow precipitate, and
their immolation of victims a superfluous waste of
dogs; in short, that they had made themselves
ridiculous.

The people soon gathered about the missiona
ries, anxious to hear what they might have to say.
Heckewelder, after White-Eye had notified him of
the charges made by Pipe, invited a meeting of the
council, and briefly laid before them the news of
which he was the messenger. He told them of the
achievements of the colonial troops; of the surren
der of General Burgoyne; of the despondency of
the British ; of the confidence of Congress in the
success of the Revolution ; and, as more nearly
affecting the interests of his hearers, of the most
friendly assurances which, on behalf of the Amer
ican people, he was delegated to deliver by Tama-
nend. White-Eye followed the missionary in a
speech of some length, and with the effect that
13*

150 BLACK-ROBES.

might have been expected from so popular and
eloquent an orator. Pipe attempted no reply, but
quietly withdrew from the assembly, and presently
from the town. His scheme had miscarried. To
prevent an attempt at its repetition elsewhere, the
chief captain prepared a message, which was dis
patched, by runners, to the Shawanese villages oa
the Scioto : — " Grandchildren ! Ye Shawanese !
Some days ago a flock of birds, that had come on
from the east, lit at Goschachguenk, imposing a
song of theirs upon us, which song had wellnigh
proved our ruin ! Should these birds, which on
leaving us took their flight towards Scioto, en
deavor to impose a song on you likewise, do not
listen to them, for they lie !"

For a season following the failure of this insur
rectionary experiment, the peace of the settlements
remained undisturbed. Gnadenhutten and Schon-
brunn, abandoned during the troublous time, were
reoccupied. The new town of Salem, five miles
below Gnadenhutten, was built (1780). Many of
the converts who had been carried away by the
defection at Schonbrunn repented of their apostasy
and were restored to the communion. The mis
sionaries and teachers, conspicuous among whom
was Glikkikan, the convert of Kaskaskunk, dili
gently and profitably strove in their labors of love
among the unbelievers. Numbers were awakened,
"overpowered by the grace of God," and made
subjects of baptism. White-Eye was brought

THE MORAVIAN. 151

under conviction, but excused himself from join
ing the church, on the ground that the act would
be inconsistent with his profession. When he could
cease to be a politician he would be a Christian.
He proposed to disembarrass himself of the hinder-
ance 6y retiring from public service as soon as
possible; but the praiseworthy intention failed in
the postponement. Shortly after, on the march
with General Mclntosh's army to erect a fort at
Tuscarawas for 'the protection of the peaceable
Indians, he was seized with the smallpox and
died. His death was an irreparable loss to the
Moravians, and a calamitous one, as events deter
mined, to the nation whose affairs, amid its tur
moils, he had administered with so much prudence
and sagacity.

VI.

CAPTAIN PIPE PLANS NEW MISCHIEF, AND WHAT CAME
OF HIS SCHEMES.

WITH the ever-lively recollection to stimu
late him of his mortifying discomfiture in
council by White-Eye, the intelligence of the death
of that renowned chief no sooner reached the ears
of Captain Pipe than, relieved by the circumstance
of the fears which, in spite of the opposite prompt
ing's of a more intense but irresolute sense of

1 52 BLACK-ROBES.

wounded pride, had held him back, he set himself
with ready alacrity to redeem his fame, recover his
influence, and restore into pattern again the broken
threads of the old conspiracy. "Behold !" he ex
claimed, exultantly, as he reappeared in the circles
from which he had been ejected ; " Coquehagech-
ton is gone! The Great Spirit has put him out of
the way that the nation may be saved !"

Gelelemend, or Killbuck, who with two coh
leagues, upon the decease of vVhite-Eye, was
placed at the head of public affairs, to serve during
the minority of the legitimate heir to the head-
chiefship, although a man of irreproachable worth,
was far from equal to the responsibilities of his new
position. He was not to be deceived by the rhet
oric, nor tempted by the corrupt approaches, of the
insurrectionary leader, but he had not the courage
to face him on the challenge and meet menace
with defiance. Under pressure of that argument
he yielded, deserting his people, and retiring with
his colleagues upon the protection of the white
friends at Pittsburg, But one obstacle remained
as an interference to the complete accomplish
ment of the captain's designs. If the missionaries
could be induced to follow the example of Gelele
mend, then the field would be left open, and little
doubt remained but that, aided by his staff of coun
selors, Girty, Elliott, and McKee, and supported
by his cut-throat body-guard of Monseys, he could
force the neutral party to terms, and have the Dela-

THE MORA VIAN. 1 5 3

wares, as a nation, committed to the war. The
missionaries, however, had made up their minds to
stay by their Congregations, and were not to be
persuaded or intimidated. Attempts were made
upon their lives. Senseman was attacked, but
fortunately rescued by the timely arrival of two of
his neighbors, while out gathering greens, one day,
in a field near Schonbrunn. Edwards and Young
narrowly escaped being shot while planting pota
toes at Gnadenhiitten ; while Heckewelder was
waylaid on different occasions, and only preserved
by special interposition of Providence.

Finding his efforts ineffectual to either win over
the converts or compel the voluntary withdrawal
of their teachers, Pipe resolved upon a new course
of procedure. He visited the English governor,
Arend Schuyler de Peyster, at Detroit, and in an
interview with him represented the Christians as
partisans in the American cause, who were acting
as spies, and through their missionaries carrying on
a secret correspondence with the enemy, to the
serious detriment of the English interest. He then
suggested that an order should be issued for their
removal from the Muskingum to some quarter
farther north, more nearly within scope of loyal
oversight, and beyond convenient reach of com
munication with the Yankees. The governor
approved of the proposition, and sent a commis
sioner to Niagara to lay the matter before a council
of the Iroquois, then and there in session, and to

154 BLACK- ROBES.

secure their agency in its execution. The Iroquois
were willing that the refractory Congregations
"should be made soup of," and so resolved, but
devolved the brewing of the broth on their neigh
bors the Chippewas and Ottowas. These tribes
declined the task. The half-king of the Hurons
was then appealed to, and, from motives of compas
sion, as he declared, — "to save the believing Indians
from total destruction," — accepted the service.

The force organized for the enterprise assembled
at Sandusky, where they were joined by Pipe and
his party. A war-feast was held preparatory to
action, a roasted ox forming the repast ; and when
the revelries appropriate to the occasion were
ended, ammunition was served out to the men by
Elliott, and the band, divided into companies, began
its march.

In the afternoon of August the loth (1781), the
force, numbering one hundred and forty, but soon
recruited to over three hundred men, with Pipe
and the half- king at its head, and bearing the
British flag, was seen, to the consternation of its in
habitants, approaching the town of Salem. A mes
sage was sent, conveying assurances of safety, and
requesting the Christians to appoint a place con
venient to the three settlements where a conference
could be held. Gnadenhiitten was designated, on an
accommodating plateau, in the vicinity of which, on
the day following, the half-king ordered the pitch
ing of his tents. The formal interview between the

THE MORAVIAN. 155

parties took place on the 2Oth. The half-king
delivered the opening speech of the occasion:

" Cousins ! Ye believing Indians in Gnaden-
hiitten, Schonbrunn, and Salem ! I am much con
cerned on your account, perceiving that you live
in a very dangerous spot. Two powerful, angry,
and merciless Gods stand ready, opening their jaws
wide against each other: you are sitting down
between both, and are thus in danger of being de
voured and ground to powder by the teeth of either
one or the other, or of both. It is therefore not
advisable for you to stay here any longer. Con
sider your young people, your wives and your
children, and preserve their lives, for here they
must all perish. I therefore take you by the hand,
lift you up, and place you in, or near, my dwelling,
where you will be safe and dwell in peace. Do
not stand looking at your plantations and houses,
but arise and follow me ! Take also your teachers
with you, and worship God in the place to which I
shall lead you, as you have been accustomed to do.
You shall likewise find provisions, and our father
beyond the lake [the governor at Detroit] will care
for you. This is my message, and I am come
hither purposely to deliver it."

The orator, having ended, presented a string of
wampum as a minute of the delivery. The mis
sionaries requested twenty-four hours for reflection,
and, having considered the proposition, offered,
next day, their reply:

156 BLACK-ROBES.

"Uncle! Ye captains of the Delawares and
Monseys, our friends and countrymen ! Ye Shaw-
anese, our nephews, and all ye other people here
assembled ! We have heard your words, but have
not yet seen the danger so great that we might
not stay here. We keep peace with all men, and
have nothing to do with the war, nor do we wish
or desire anything but to be permitted to enjoy
peace and rest. You see yourselves that we cannot
rise immediately and go with you, for we are heavy,
and time is required to prepare for it. But we will
keep and consider your words, and let you, Uncle,
know our answer next winter after harvest. Upon
this you may rely."

The reply was not at all satisfactory to Captain
Pipe, who insisted with the half-king that he should
cease further attempts at persuasion and resort to
compulsory measures. A council of war was called.
As the result of its deliberations, the direct ques
tion was put to the Christians : " Will you go with
us, or not ?" They repeated the answer they had
already given, and added that they intended to
abide by it.

A few days afterwards, Zeisberger, Senseman,
and Heckewelder were walking together through
one of their gardens, along a way that led to the
burying-ground of the town, when a party of Wy-
andots, who were concealed behind a fence, sprang
up, seized upon them, and dragged them as pris
oners into the camp, where they were met with

THE MORAVIAN. 157

derisive greetings, and hailed with the chant of
the death-song. They were then brought before
the half-king and his chiefs, when the proposition
was again made, — "Would they go to Sandusky,
encourage their converts to go along, and not at
tempt to run away from their escort on the route ?"
With no alternative at choice, they promised, and
were set at liberty.

Short space was granted in which to make prep
aration for the journey, but such arrangements as
could be effected were undertaken without delay.
Under cover of the night, the implements of labor
most valuable to them — plow-irons, harrow-teeth,
hoes, saws, and culinary-ware — were carried se
cretly to the woods and buried. Having thus dis
posed of the articles most valuable to them, but
not conveniently portable, they loaded their canoes
with provisions, and packed their horses with such
lighter goods as were indispensable, especially for
the comfort of the women and children, on the
way. On the morning of the nth of September
the flitting Congregations turned their backs upon
the Muskingum villages, — Gnadenhutten, Schon-
brunn, and Salem, — endeared to them by so many
blessed associations, and began their weary march
to the far-away scene allotted for their abode on the
marshy lowlands of the lake-shore. Quite all the
possessions which they had accumulated by years
of patient industry and thrift — the greater portion
of their cattle, their herds of swine, their broad
14

158

BLACK-ROBES.

acres of maize, ripe but ungathered in the fields of
the valleys which they had brought under culture,
the gardens with their yield of fruits and vegetables,
and, equally regretted, and more in the end to be
deplored, because never recovered, books and man
uscripts of the missionaries — were left behind at
the mercy of the ruthless horde of plunderers, who,
ere the exiles were fairly out of view, had begun
their work of destruction, tearing down the fences
of the inclosures, and turning their horses in upon
the corn.

On the nth of October they reached the San-
dusky. Their first care was to erect cabins for their
protection through the winter, a bitter foretaste
of which they already experienced in the chilling
blasts that swept the naked wastes in midst of
which lay their appointed quarters. These shelters,
because of the scarcity of timber, and the distance
across the marshes from which the nearest avail
able supplies had to be brought, were very small,
poorly heated, from lack of space for fireplaces,
and entirely without flooring, the water flooding
the interior as the recurring thaws of the season
cracked the frozen soil and opened up sluices under
the foundation-logs of the walls for the inundation.
As the weeks glided by, their limited stores of pro
vision became exhausted. The few cows which
they had been allowed to bring with them, with
out food, failed to yield milk, and began to die of
hunger. To support life, recourse was had to the

THE MORA VIAN. 1 59

carcasses of the starved cattle, or to roots and ber
ries, gathered, all shriveled as they were, from the
bushes, or painfully dug out of the hard ground.
It was a time of terrible trial to the poor Mora
vians. The strong among them found their ener
gies rapidly giving way; famished children wept
and prayed and raved for bread ; while nursing
mothers, scarce able to maintain a wretched being
of their own, could afford no nourishment for the
helpless starvelings at their bosoms, lying there
wailing and dying in their arms. It became pain
fully evident that immediate action must be taken
for the relief of the suffering community. A gen
eral consultation was held, the result of which was
the appointment of a deputation consisting of about
one hundred and fifty men, women, and children,
to return to the Muskingum and procure supplies
out of what might remain of the unharvested crops
on the abandoned plantations of that river. The
party was organized, and, after an affectionate in
terchange of adieus with the friends that were to
remain behind, started upon its errand.

Meanwhile, upon a citation from De Peyster,
Zeisberger, Senseman, Heckewelder, and Edwards,
led by the half-king, — Girty, who was to have as
sisted him, being fortunately absent, with a band
of Wyandots, on a raid along the Ohio bottoms, —
had repaired to Detroit. The commandant received
them kindly, lodged them and provided for their
wants with praiseworthy liberality. On the appear-

1 60 BLA CK-ROBES.

ance of their accuser, Captain Pipe, they were sum
moned before De Peyster for examination. The
captain failing in his anticipated proofs of the trea
sonable correspondence complained of, and, in fact,
after some hesitation, making a complete retraction
of his charges, public declaration was made of their
innocence, and the missionaries were not only set
at liberty, but commended for their fearless devo
tion to the noble and disinterested work to which
they had dedicated their lives.

Sad as was the trial of separation that day when
the relief-party, appointed to go to the old settle
ments for food, started on their journey, it was not
what it would have been could a suspicion have
arisen of the consequences — merely as a possible
contingency — that were to follow the enterprise.
Prowling bands of savages on the one hand, and
gangs of rude border-men on the other, were known
to be abroad, but it was not anticipated that they
would be encountered in any force, or, if they
should be, that violence was necessarily to be ap
prehended from either. Their friendly understand
ing with the American officers at Pittsburg had not
been disturbed, and it was hardly to be looked for
that the heathen clans — mostly tribesmen of their
own — would deal more cruelly with them, at worst,
than they had already done, — the risk of which, to
that extent, they were willing, for the end in view,
to hazard. Proper caution, nevertheless, was to

THE MORAVIAN. 161

be observed, and they decided, upon reaching the
Muskingum, not to visit the towns, but to encamp
in the woods. They were making their arrange
ments accordingly, when two or three of their fel-
low-communionists, happening in upon them from
Pittsburg, gave such assurances of non-interference
from that quarter, that, for the greater convenience
of their business, they concluded to change their
plans and occupy the villages.

For several weeks, toiling night and day, they
pursued their labors, plucking the ears from the
stalks, stripping off the husks, and carrying great
loads of the corn away to carefully-prepared hiding-
places in the woods ; whence, from time to time,
and with ease and dispatch, future supplies might
be obtained, as the wants of the Congregation de
manded. One evening, when their task was nearly
completed, four Sandusky warriors appeared among
them on their way back from an expedition down
among the white settlements on the Ohio. They
had captured a woman and a child in the valley,
while wandering, so they said, both of whom they
had killed and impaled on the river-shore. The
victims, it was added, would be discovered, — with
out doubt were already discovered, — pursuit would
certainly follow, and unless the Brethren, who, if
not set down as its actual perpetrators, would be
charged with having connived at the deed, made
instant retreat towards the lake, they would, in all
likelihood, be overtaken and murdered. Relying-

1 62 BLACK-ROBES.

upon their well-known reputation as a society re
ligiously averse to bloodshed, and satisfied, against
whatever treacherous suggestion, with the pledges
of friendship so recently renewed at Pittsburg, they
declined, after consultation, to act upon the advice
of the warriors.

By this time, however, they had laid up as large
a stock of provision as was desired, and notice was
accordingly served throughout the villages for all
to put themselves in readiness for returning to
Sandusky. On the day previous to the one fixed
for their departure, Jacob, one of the converts,
stood on the river-bank, a short distance from
Gnadenhiitten, and, while engaged in tying a corn-
sack, saw a body of from one to two hundred white
men approaching the town. He was on the point
of saluting the company, when to his consterna
tion a shot was fired from its ranks at one of the
Christian Indians, who, at the moment, was cross
ing the river in a canoe. The shot seemed to tell
with mortal effect, the man dropping from his seat
at the Discharge, into the bottom of his vessel.
Jacob fled affrighted, but, instead of escaping to one
or other of the villages and giving the alarm, he ran
to the woods, where he lay hidden for twenty-four
hours. There was no other witness of the occur
rence, the rest of the Brethren being scattered,
beyond view, here and there in the cornfields.

The company of border-men continued their
march, without any further act of hostility, until

THE MORAVIAN. 163

they had approached the fields where the Indians
were at work. On meeting with them they mani
fested great cordiality; expressing themselves as
entertaining an ardent sympathy for the Brother
hood ; referring to their handsome chapel in rather
extravagant terms of admiration, and discoursing,
with a zeal that was very captivating, as indica
tive of a highly-sanctified temper of heart, upon
religious topics. They then declared the object
of their visit. They were there "as friends and
brothers, who had purposely come out to relieve
them from the distresses brought on by the enemy
on account of their being friends to the Ameri
can people," and formally proposed to conduct
them to Pittsburg, where their wants would all be
satisfied. The Christians, unsuspicious of evil,
reciprocated their greetings with unaffected warmth,
and expressed a cheerful willingness to follow them
as proposed. "God has ordained it," they ex
claimed, in their gratitude, " that relief should
reach us, and that we should not perish in the
barrens of Sandusky."

Having all gathered in at Gnadenhiitten, worJ
was sent to Salem of the arrival of the whites —
quite a detachment of the latter accompanying the
messengers appointed to convey the intelligence — '
and of their charitable intentions, inviting the
Brethren there to come over and join in the pro
posed movement. They gladly acquiesced in the
arrangement. The simple preparations .1 cessary

!64 BLACK-ROBES.

— or possible — were soon made. Out of con
sideration for their greater comfort in journeying,
urged tenderly, but so tenaciously as to have jus
tified a suspicion of some unfair intention, if the
honest Moravians had been given to doubting, the
whites proposed, and were permitted, to take in
charge all their guns, axes, and knives, with the
promise that they should be restored upon their
arrival at Pittsburg.

The party reached Gnadenhiitten. Assembled
all in the village, a change, marvelous as sudden,
took place in the conduct of the border-men. No
longer needed now in the further prosecution of
their plans, disguise was cast aside, and the de
ceivers presented themselves in their genuine char
acter. They charged upon the Moravians, inso
lently and unblushingly, although they knew the
allegation to be false, that they were not what they
claimed to be ; that their professions were hypo
critical, their practices dishonest; that their horses
had been stolen from the white settlers, as was in
dicated by the letters — for what knowledge had
they of letters ? — with which they were branded ;
that their axes, stamped with white men's names,
had been procured in the same way, as were also
'their wooden bowls, their spoons, their teakettles,
pots, cups, and other utensils of the sort ; in short,
that they were warriors and enemies, and that they
must make up their minds to meet the treatment
due them as such.

THE MORAVIAN. l6|

In vain the unhappy creatures whom they had
entrapped protested their innocence. They could
account for the lawful arid honest acquisition of
every article of property in their possession. The
irons for the brands were made by the smiths
on their own order, to mark their own horses
for identification among themselves. With their
habits refined under training of the missiona
ries, and enabled thereto out of the abundance
rewarding their industry, they were qualified to
live, and did live, like Christian people, and had
long owned, and had in use, the cooking and other
domestic implements peculiar to civilized life. That
they were not heathen Indians, or of those that were
at strife with the Americans, might be seen from
the fact that they did hot appear in the savage cos
tume ; nor were their faces painted, nor did they
wear the feathers, nor the scalp-locks, which dis
tinguished the warriors. Some few of the border-
men were inclined to deal leniently with them, and
indeed refused to participate in the after-proceed
ings, but the majority were not to be moved. Their
fate was sealed.

Two adjoining buildings were selected as places
of confinement, into one of which the men were
thrust, and the women and children into the other.
A council of the whites was hastily held, after
which the formal announcement was made to the
prisoners that they must die. With folded hands,
imploring piteously, they prayed for life. The ears

1 66 BLACK-ROBES.

of their captors were deaf to entreaty, and if
they yielded so far, at length, as to postpone the
execution of their resolve until next day, it is more
than likely that the respite was granted, not from
motives of compassion, but that, like tigers, they
might enjoy the tortures of their prey, and from
their agonies derive a keener relish for to-morrow's
feast of blood. Convinced at length that the con
sciences with which they had to do were proof
against appeal, they ceased the effort. " We can
call God to witness," said they, " that we are per
fectly innocent; yet we are prepared and willing
to suffer death."

No symptom of weakness betrayed itself there
after. They had made their plea, earnestly but
not cravenly, as true men may. It had failed.
They accepted the failure, and with unfaltering
composure awaited what was to come. Hero
ism had never a nobler illustration than was ex
emplified in their cases at that most trying crisis.
All through the night devotional services were
kept up ; words of exhortation were interchanged,
mutual confessions made, and prayers and praises
offered at the throne of Grace. " I have been an
untoward child," said Brother Abraham, "and
have grieved the Lord by my disobedience, not
walking as I ought to have done, yet will I
cleave to my Saviour with my last breath. I
know assuredly that He will forgive me all my
sins and not cast me out." While still religiously

THE MORAVIAN. 167

engaged, singing together a hymn at the moment,
the impatient ruffians who had voluntarily assumed
the task, entered the rooms, and, harshly interrupt
ing the proceedings, asked the prisoners if they
were ready. They had committed their immortal
souls to God, they said, and were ready. One of
the border-men took hold of a cooper's mallet that
lay on the floor, observing, as he did so, "How ex
actly this will answer for the purpose!" and with a
heavily-wielded blow at the head of Brother Abra
ham brought him to the floor. Plying the weapon
right and left, he did not pause until fourteen of the
Christians were prostrate, struggling in the agonies
of death. He then delivered the mallet to one of
his fellows, remarking, " My arm fails me ! Go
you on in the same way !" And so, while a victim
remained, the work of butchery continued.

Sixty-two men and women and thirty-four
children were stricken down, scalped, and left
crushed and bleeding on the floors of these
slaughter-pens. Two only escaped ; one, who by
adroit management had extricated himself from
the cords with which he had been bound, crawled
through a window and secreted himself in the
cellar of the house in which the Sisters were con
fined, their blood streaming down upon him
through the seams in the floor as he crouched
there ; and another, who, felled, scalped, and left for
dead like the rest, had nevertheless revived after
wards ; betraying the fact, however, by no sign, but

1 68 BLACK-ROBES.

lying where he had fallen among the slain, with
out motion or groan, although suffering indescrib
able torture. In this predicament he lingered while
the light lasted, and as long as there was danger
of discovery. Under cover of the darkness both
managed to retreat undetected from the building
and gain the woods, whence, as the night deepened,
they resumed their flight, and after a painful jour
ney succeeded, at length, in reaching Sandusky in
safety. But ere yet beyond view of the village, as
they were able to relate to the horrified Congrega
tion on the lake-shore, they had seen the torches
applied to the slaughter-pens ; they had seen the
flames leap up and reach and spread, until the
buildings were all enveloped in the blaze ; and, in
the glare of the fire, they had witnessed the dark
forms of the border-men group and mingle, and in
grim pantomime make display of their exultation
at sight of this closing act of the hideous tragedy.
Among the victims of the massacre was Glikkikan,
the Delaware captain, who from the date of his con
version had continued, through all its vicissitudes
of fortune, with the Congregation, loyal to the Faith,
and true in his attachment to the missionaries.

Early in the morning of the day following the
fatal one at Gnadenhutten, the band of assassins
mounted their horses and started for Schonbrunn,
to enact similar violence against the Christians
who had taken shelter in that settlement. For
tunately, two Brethren from that locality, walking

THE MORA VIAN.

169

towards Gnadenhiitten, encountered accidentally
the dead body of one of their number, a young
convert called Joseph Shabosh, who had been se
cretly murdered, like the boatman, while out alone,
and about a mile apart from the rest of his people.
Noticing the tracks of shod hoofs in the soil, they
suspected danger, hastened back and alarmed their
neighbors. When the border-men reached the
village they found it deserted; and although the
Indians who had fled were retired so short a
distance up the river that they could see the
movements of their pursuers, they remained un
discovered. After robbing the houses and stables
of whatever properties of value they could lay
hands upon, the plunderers, without choosing to
resume pursuit, turned about and took up their
route for home. Arrived at Pittsburg, the effects
which they had stolen were offered for sale at
public auction ; on which occasion the scalps
taken were brought out and proudly exposed, as
trophies of heroic achievement, before the gaze of
admiring bidders and beholders.

To COLONEL DAVID WILLIAMSON belongs the
distinction of having led, as ruffian-in-chief, in this
memorable adventure. If he is to be accredited with
the account of the expedition, as published at the
time in the Pennsylvania Gazette, wherein it is said,
" We arrived at the town (Gnadenhiitten) in the
night, undiscovered ; attacked the Indians in their
cabins, and so completely surprised them that we

1 70 BLA CK-R OSES.

killed and scalped upwards of ninety, but a few
making their escape, — and returned to the Ohio
without the loss of a man," then was he contemp
tible as a mendacious braggart. " Did you not
hail and welcome the believing Indians," was the
more truthful charge uttered against him and his
gang by the savages, alluding to this occasion,
shortly after, "as friends? You assured them of
your friendship. You told them that they need
not fear any harm from you. Did they run from
you when they saw you coming ? Did they fire a
single shot at you ? No. We warriors warned
them to beware of you arid your pretended friend
ship; but they would not believe, and for this they
paid with their lives." If when, two months after
wards, a second expedition was undertaken to finish
the work at Sandusky so prosperously begun on
the Muskingum, and when in turn the border-men
were surprised, the projector of the movement was
the first man to take advantage of chance, desert his
comrades and seek safety in flight; and if in that
same adventure the more honorable but less for
tunate Colonel Crawford, who would not abandon
his followers, was captured, most cruelly tortured,
and murdered, in retaliation for the crime in which
he had not participated, then was the denunciation
of the civilized world well bestowed, and the judg
ment of the savages well awarded, when they
pronounced the leader in both enterprises a black
hearted assassin, a betrayer, and a coward.

THE MORA VIA N. \ ; i

VII.

THE DISPERSION OF THE CONGREGATION; ITS RESTO
RATION, AND ITS RETURN TO THE MUSKINGUM.

THE condition of the Brethren on the San-
dusky was melancholy in the extreme.
Their place of habitation amid the soggy flats of
that half-deluged region was inhospitable, com
fortless, and of such dismal associations that they
would not give it name, but left it as a blot or a
blank to fill its place in the record of their wander
ings. The lancjs around them were rich enough
in the production of rank and unwholesome vege
tation, such as found indigenous growth in the
contaminate soil; but no effort of industry could
overcome their stubborn resistance to every at
tempt at better culture. The winter climate was
cruel beyond endurance. In months of milder
temperature the air was charged with pestilence.
Men pined miserably from disease and want.
Fevers racked their bodies. The proper prey of
vultures — cattle fallen dead by the wayside, of
famine — was a last resort for sustenance, upon
which they fed hungrily. Persecutions assailed
them from every quarter. They found themselves
betrayed by friends in whom they had trusted ; and
the hands which they had clasped in pledge of that

172 BLACK-ROBES.

confidence, lifted treacherously against them, were
red with the blood of their martyred kindred.
They were despised and rejected of the tribes of
their own race ; and how could they hope, and for
what could they hope, from the people that recog
nized Pipe as a partisan, and Girty and McKee
and Elliott as allies ? Their missionaries, towards
whom, in the cares of life, they had been used to look
for guidance and support, had been forced away
and kept in banishment God seemed to have for
gotten to be merciful ; to have disowned their de
votion, mocked at their calamities, and given them
over utterly to helpless, hopeless abandonment.

Some of the better qualified by grace and faith
among the converts, who had been accustomed to
serve as assistants to the missionaries, maintained
the forms of worship in the community, the exer
cises peculiar to which were for some time marked
by affecting displays of interest; but the artful con
spirators- who had successfully engineered the re
moval of the shepherds were not to be easily foiled
in their experiments upon the flock. They pois
oned the ears of the people with baneful accusa
tions against their white leaders. The Muskingum
massacre, they alleged, was planned with their
knowledge; else why, instead of waiting with their
followers to share the disaster that was to happen,
had they allowed themselves to be carried off to a
place of safety beyond the water? Murmurs of
discontent at length began to prevail. Here and

THE MORA VIAN.

173

there a discipje of weak faith gave way. Soon
backsliders made open confession of relapse, and
boldly advocated apostasy to the rest. To com
plete the array of adversities hemming the unfor
tunates about, and closing in upon them irresistibly,
the arm of civil authority was interposed. The
half-king of the Hurons, " so incessantly tormented
by his evil conscience that he could not rest as
long as any Christian Indians were in his neigh
borhood to remind him of his treacherous and
cruel behavior," commanded them peremptorily to
disband and leave the country. The order was not
to be disputed. Heavy at heart for the separations
that were to take place, but without a sigh of re
gret at parting from the huts of logs and bark in
which a wretched tarrying of six months had been
endured, and that were never sanctified by a single
endearing home association, on an April day (1782)
they gathered up the ragged remains of their pos
sessions, took their various courses and wandered
off, some to the country of the Shawanese, and
some to the Miami River. And so the community
was broken in. pieces; and so the nameless settle
ment on the Sand u sky was abandoned forever.

The missionaries had scarcely retired from De
troit, after their acquittal in the trial to which refer
ence has been made, when, upon additional charges
preferred by the same parties, they were again
brought before the commandant. On this occa
sion, however, they were not subjected to even the

is*

1 74 BLA CK-R OBES.

form of an examination. The commandant was
satisfied of their innocence, and assured them that
it was only with a view to their welfare that he
had ordered their appearance at Detroit, being
convinced, from reliable information, that if they
remained at Sandusky it would be at the imminent
hazard of their lives. He gave them permission to
tarry under his protection at Detroit, or return to
Bethlehem, as they chose. Duty and affection for
bade their assent to either arrangement. It would
be inhuman, it would be unchristian, in the hour
of trial to forsake their scattered flock entirely.
Their first wish was to establish a settlement in
some new and safe locality, where they could gather
around them their dispersed people, contribute to
their comfort, and preserve them in the faith of
the gospel. Learning their project, De Peyster
approved of it, and, exerting his influence with the
Chippewas, secured a grant from that tribe of a
portion of their territory on the Huron River,
thirty miles above Detroit, for their use. The mis
sionaries took possession of the little domain,
measured off fields, laid out gard ns, built cabins
of bark, and sent messages to the wandered exiles
of the Congregation, inviting them to repair to the
NEW-GNADENHUTTEN reared for their reception.
Abraham, the old Mohican captain and early con
vert, was one of the first to respond. Others
followed, and soon again others, singly and in
families, until quite a community was gathered in,

THE MORAVIAN. 175

V

and the new village began to wear an inhabited
air and assume something of that homelike aspect
which had so endeared their former settlements to
the hearts of the Christians.

Before winter set in, the temporary bark huts
were torn away and comfortable log cabins put up
in their stead. The ground was cleared of under
wood, in readiness for the plow and spade, when the
coming of seed-time should call'Tor their employ
ment Colonel De Peyster generously furnished
supplies of garden and farming tools, a boat, a pair
of cows, and some horses ; his wife, at the same
time, offering, as her contribution, an assortment
of seeds, roots, and plants. To meet the wants of
the people through the winter, hunting and trap
ping were resorted to ; what flesh they had to spare,
together with the hides and furs of the captured
game, being taken to Detroit and there exchanged
for meal and wearing-apparel. The women, and
men inexpert at the use of the rifle or the snare,
remained at home, improving their leisure in the
manufacture of canoes, baskets, bowls, ladles, and
brooms, or, further on in the season, tapping the
maples in the neighboring groves and distilling
their juices into sugar. With these articles quite a
traffic was carried on with the white population in
and about the British fort.

Thus the first winter, and so year after year,
passed by. Busy hands did what was possible to
improve the lands, and make more and more com-

1 76 BLA CK-R OSES.

fortable the dwellings and neat and ornamental the
thoroughfares. The rough features of the native
wil'ds of the vicinity were made smooth ; meadows
lay green and smiling on the water-shores where
thickets of stunted oak-saplings, densely grown,
had flourished ; and cattle browsed on open ranges
— pastures teeming with verdure — where, in the
copses, foxes erewhile had made their hiding-
places, and the cleer had taken for refuge when
pursued by the hunter.

The religion of the Moravian meant work as well
as worship. While demanding strictly its tithes
of devotional offering, it exacted no less rigidly its
equal measure of muscular'tribute. A system of
belief thus severe in its requirements was as little
to the relish of the savage as — could it be less than ?
— it would have been to the mass of paler-com-
plexioned and more orthodox creedists. It called
for long years of patient labor among the folk of
their chosen nation, to win over to the Unity the
converts of which its small flock was composed.
The flesh more powerfully than the devil was up
in arms against the attempted innovation. Under
God, Zeisberger and his colleagues, with the Dela-
wares to deal with, were more than a match for
their antagonists, and out of that people were able
to attract followers, and hold them fast and faith
ful, through whatever vicissitude of trial, to the new
profession. But the Lenni-Lenapes were a race
among whom virtue was not altogether effete, nor

THE MORAVIAN. 177

life in its diviner instincts without an aspiration.
The Chippewas, on the other hand, were a misera
bly degraded tribe, — sunk so low as over the purely
animal scarcely to have maintained a rational level
in the scale of being. Indolent knaves were they,
who derived their chief subsistence from hunting
and fishing, or, when these resources failed, who
found a satisfactory substitute in frogs, dogs,
muskrats, and dead horses. Wedded to their
groveling ways, they saw nothing to captivate
them in the toilsome pursuits and compulsory
observances of the Christians.

The missionaries labored long to educate these
savages to a loftier conception of life and its duties,
but their efforts were futile. Between societies
whose materials were of such incongruous compo
sition, there could exist no common element of
attraction. They might exercise a mutual forbear
ance for awhile ; but that virtue is of a precarious
temper, and, if it does not ripen ere long into a feel
ing of more generous cast, is apt to degenerate into
a sentiment of aversion. Four years of residence
were spent at the settlement on the Huron. In the
beginning the heathen had received the Congrega
tion of exiles kindly. The novelty of the Chris
tian usages having worn off, indifference followed,
then distrust, then dissatisfaction. Complaints
began to be made. Their hospitality was being
unreasonably taxed. They wanted their own lands
for their d\vn purposes. The country thereabouts

1 78 BLACK-ROBES.

constituted their choicest hunting-grounds. The
Moravians were clearing out their woods, killing
their game, and soon, unless rid of their guests,
they would be left destitute. Moreover, the causes
no longer existed which had induced the offer of
accommodation to the Society. The war had
ended; peace was restored, and they were at
liberty to go where they would, with none to
molest them or make them afraid.

Although their occupation of New-Gnadenhut-
ten had been one of uninterrupted repose; although
Providence, rewarding their toils, had given them
to enjoy plentifully of the means promotive of ease
and comfort, yet the attachments of the Brethren
to the place were not so many, nor so strong, but
that they could be broken without insupportable
regret. There were no endearing associations
connected with the spot. The marked events of
their experience — their struggles, their successes,
their joys, and their griefs — all dated back in the
past, and were linked with other scenes and other
times. Lichtenau and Salem, the Beautiful Spring
and the Tents of Grace, were the Zion to which their
thoughts reverted. There had they witnessed their
triumphs and been used to join their thousand
voices in glad psalms of rejoicing. There had they
suffered together when overtaken by calamity, and
there the bones of their dead lay buried.

The missionaries had been defeated in the grand
project which they had undertaken. On the eve

THE MORAVIAN.

of success, when their chapels were filled with
attentive hearers; when chieftains, warriors, and
counselors thronged with the multitude to listen to
the messages of inspiration ; and when the belief,
which they had labored for forty years to establish
as the national faith of the Delawares, seemed
about to displace the ancient superstition, they
found their plans thwarted, their work wrecked,
their brotherhood banished, broken and scattered,
and the expectations upon which they had reck
oned so fondly blighted forever. In the choice
of this their latest tarrying-place they had scarcely
looked for more than to gather in, and maintain in
the Unity, such scattered remnants as they might
of their dispersed people. This done, they could
entertain no dearer desire than, when the door of
deliverance opened, to take up again their pilgrim
age, retrace the ways of their wandering, and, as the
day of their prosperity declined, to spend serenely
its closing hours amid the scenes where they had
enjoyed the full lustre of its noon, on the old
familiar shores of the Muskingum.

When, therefore, the Chippewas intimated a de
sire for their removal, the Congregation, ministers
and members, assented to the suggestion without
a complaint. On the 2Oth of April, 1786, they as
sembled for the last time in their chapel ; presented
their oblation of prayer and praise, thanking the
Lord for his mercies and commending themselves
to his protection; then, embarking in their canoes,

1 80 BLA CK-R OBES.

twenty-two in number, they bade adieu to the
friends collected to witness their departure, shoved
the vessels from the shore, and were gone.

It does not fall within the design of this sketch
to follow further in detail the progress of the wan
derers ; to describe the alarms that caused a delay of
a year at Pilgerruh, — the Pilgrims' Rest ; to speak
of the longer sojourn at Pettquotting, where Gillele-
mend, or Killbuck, embraced the gospel and was
baptized; nor of their return to Michigan, and of
their temporary settlement at Fairfield. The oppor
tunity tocarry out theircherished intention occurred
at length, and on the 4th of October, 1798, seven
teen years after their expulsion, the Congregation
of exiles were back again on the banks of the Elk-
Eye. They found their lands overgrown with tall,
coarse grass, and infested with serpents. Briers
and bushes, the harbor of wild beasts, thicketed
the site of Gnadenhiitten ; all traces of which were
lost except the ruins of a house or two, and, there
where the slaughter-pens had stood, a heap of
ashes, with here and there a bone not altogether
consumed, indicating with melancholy certainty
the scene of that awful visitation, never to be
forgotten, of violence and fire, of treachery and
assassination.

With the retirement of the Brethren from New-
Gnadenhutten the mission in the wilderness may
be said to have terminated. The new settlement
of Goshen, erected eight miles from the spot where

THE MORA VIAN. 1 8 1

Gnadenhutten had stood, on the Muskingum, was
planted at a time when the region round about was
rapidly filling up with white settlers. Axes were
laid at the roots of the trees ; clearings were made ;
the scared game was deserting the woods ; squat
ters, tomahawk in hand to notch the corner hicko
ries, were marking off their claims ; log cabins
were springing up, and the valley of the Mus
kingum was within the line of the border. The re
sistance of the savage to the encroachments of the
pioneer only lacked the spasmodic attempt made
shortly after by Tecumseh, to be abandoned in
despair. Their disintegration and dispersion soon
followed. With the tide of emigration flocked in
other interpreters of inspiration, — stout defenders
of the Faith, but whose zeal in the service never
led them to tempt the perils and privations of a
life beyond the advance posts of civilization. A
new theatre for denominational .rivalry — a supple
mentary stage for church extension — was found.
The old field of Christian occupation, as among
the Gentiles, was lost. The work of the Moravian
was ended.

16

THE METHODIST.

THE METHODIST.

I.

THE METHODIST PREACHER OF THE BORDER NASCI-

TUR, NON FIT.

AS with the Jesuit began, so with the Moravian
ended the missionary enterprises of the wil
derness. While the Indian tribes peopled the land,
and, as national communities, claimed and held the
exclusive ownership of the soil ; while a trespass
upon their domain, or an offense against their cus
toms, involved the risk of calamitous consequences;
and while to be among them was to be shut out,
utterly, from all fellowship with civilized society,
the follower of Loyola and the disciple of Huss
were permitted to enjoy undisputed possession of
the field. " Evangelical" competitors stood aloof.
It was their business to keep pace with the prog
ress of light ; not to invade the kingdom of dark
ness. Their boldest advances never reached be
yond the clearings. Did Brainerd " undertake the
arduous work of a missionary to wild barbarians" ?
The work was a few months' toil at the Forks of
the Delaware, and the wild barbarians were Irish-
16* ( 185 )

1 86 BLACK-ROBES.

men as well as aborigines. John Stewart, the mu
latto Methodist exhorter, in 1816, "located" tem
porarily among a band of Hurons at Sandusky, but
it was thirteen years after Ohio had been admitted
as a State into the Union. Isaac McCoy, a very
worthy Baptist divine, established the Carey Mis
sion among the Pottawottamies on the St. Joseph's
River, in Michigan, but it was in 1822, when the
Territory had already been represented for three
years in Congress. Indeed, even though a self-
denying spirit equal to the undertaking had not
been wanting, more adventurous enterprise could
scarcely have been expected, when the esteem is
considered in which the savages were held by the
sects of the day. They were imps of hell's beget
ting, whom it was religious duty to exterminate, —
the predestined victims of perdition, whom it was
contempt of God's decrees to try to bring under
sanctifying influence, — Hittites an 1 Girgashites
possessing the land, whom it was the bounden
duty of the Lord's elect, rather, to smite and
utterly destroy, to make no covenant with, and in
whose favor to show no mercy : all consistently
with the gospel according to Moses. Entertaining
such views of the present status and future pros
pects of the race, to have attempted their refor
mation would have been more than a work of
supererogation : it would have been to dispute the
designs of Providence, to squander the time of his
servants, and rashly and imprudently to expose the

THE METHODIST. 187

safety of their persons. They declined the ven
ture. As others of their own people led, they might
dare to folk w, but discreetly, within bounds, and
never beyond where the surveyor and the squatter,
at least, had been before, to prepare the way and
make straight the paths for the succession.

The cession to the British, by the Iroquois, of the
country south of the Alleghany and Ohio Rivers,
i.i 1768, opened up the extensive regions of that
portion of Pennsylvania drained by the Mononga-
hela, Western Virginia, and Kentucky to the occu
pation of the whites. Explorers penetrated the
wilderness, speedily followed by traders, who com
menced a lucrative business in furs and skins with
the Indians. These, in their turn, were succeeded
by adventurers of more reputable vocation ; men
who, with their rifles on their shoulders and their
dogs at their heels, preferred to win by skill and
daring the valuable spoils which had been the ob
jects of barter to their predecessors. The favorable
report given upon their return, of the countries
which they visited, aroused attention. Listeners
to their narratives, told in social circles or at do
mestic firesides, — especially the young who had yet
their fortunes to carve out, and who wanted neither
the vigor nor the will to do it, — were easily tempted
to make trial on their own account ; and so, from
the old settlements of Eastern Virginia and North
Carolina, started that tide of emigration which was
soon to make populous all the new border, from

1 88 BLACK-ROBES.

the valley of the Monongahela to the far hunting-
grounds of the Cherokees on the Kentucky. Per
manent settlers occupied the lands. Surveys were
made, cabins were built, acres were cleared, the
soil was tilled, farm was added to farm, villages
sprang up, and all abroad the inflowing popula
tions were spreading, mooring, improving, and
multiplying. As the process of importation went
on, speculators joined in it, helping to swell the
moving current — and add to the list of their des
tined victims. Extensive tracts were bought, or
laid claim to, by these professional sharpers, which
were sold in parcels to newly-arriving emigrants,
who seldom paused to inquire into the validity of
titles, and were made the subjects of gross imposi
tion. They frequently paid the price of their pur
chases two or three times over, to find that even
then their claims were utterly invalid. The country
beyond the Ohio attracted their attention. Its lands
were not in the market, and therefore lay out of
the reach of the avaricious operator. The shores
wore a fruitful and inviting aspect. Easily induced
to run the risk of annoyance from the savages, the
settlers, many of them, resolved upon a change,
and, crossing the river, began to take possession of
the new territory, establishing their settlements in
the regions watered by the Muskingum, the Scioto,
and the Miami.

But the provinces of the lower coast were not to
enjoy a monopoly of the new field of occupation.

THE METHODIST. 189

Massachusetts, some twenty years subsequently to
the movement of her more enterprising sisters, put
in her claim. A party of emigrants under the
auspices of the " Ohio Company" crossed the
mountains, reached the Youghiogheny, built a
vessel, which, in honor of the memorable craft that
had borne their fathers on a still more ..daring
voyage, they called the " Mayflower," and, pursuing
the remainder of their journey by water, tarried not
until they had attained their point of destination,
at the mouth of the Muskingum. The tract in
cluded in the grant of the company covered a large
portion of the eastern section of what was after
wards the State of Ohio, and was not of the
choicest part of its territory; but the "Huckle
berry Knobs " were a vast improvement on the
sterile patches of New England, and the new
comers were delighted with the change. Glowing
accounts were sent back of the country. It was a
land flowing, literally, with milk and honey. Its
meadows, without cultivation, were equal to the
support of millions of cattle, winter and summer.
Sicily could not afford finer wheat-lands. There
were bogs producing cranberries enough to supply
tarts for all New England ; while the legs of the
horses roving the plains were dyed to the knees
with the juice of the wild strawberry. Fresh re
cruits poured rapidly and continuously in. Mari
etta sprang at once into importance as a town. The
neighboring country filled up, — the axe laying bare

1 90 BLA CK-R OBES.

new openings for homesteads farther and farther
back into the woods. School-houses were built,
teachers employed, and, in a short time, all the
machinery by which well-regulated Yankee com
munities at home are governed, set swimmingly
in motion.

Thus were the nearer quarters of the Northwest
Territory invaded at the south and at the east,
and thus were brought together in the same Com
monwealth two various classes, which were ulti
mately to blend together, and out of their united
thrift and enterprise to build up one of the most
prosperous and populous republics in the whole
of the confederate group.

As between these classes, there were striking
points of contrast. The Down-Easter, in his trans
plantation, lost none of his distinguishing charac
teristics. He was his identical self on the border
as in the Bay State. His institutions he had brought
with him as part and parcel of the miscella
neous stock of "notions" that constituted his
baggage, — his Bible and his ballot-box, his spell
ing- and his statute-book (is it superfluous to add,
his jack-knife and his dialect ?), — all that could be
made available " to secure civil rights, establish
law and order, introduce a pure religion, and pro
vide for universal education." True to the habits
in which he had been trained : of thinking, — and
he was shrewd at it ; of doing, — and he never
wearied of it ; of appearing, — and, down to his

THE METHODIST. 191

cloth, its cut and its brass buttons, he never varied
in it, — he underwent no change ; dealing with his
neighbor, serving God — and himself — as he had
always done, as his fathers before him had done,
and as his children after him would continue to do.
Not so with the Virginian. Cut loose from his
anchorage on the Chesapeake, he left all behind
him, as he went on his wanderings, save a stout
heart throbbing for adventure, and a stanch arm
nerved to achieve it. The old ways of life, the
influences of home and of society, except as they
may have operated to induce a general tendency
of character, were discarded and abandoned. He
threw them off, as unsuited to the uses and the
fashions of the woods. Accoutred in his hunting-
shirt of linsey-woolsey, his buckskin breeches, fox-
skin cap, and easily-fitting moccasins, and with his
rifle, his pouch, and the knife at h s belt as his only
impedimenta, he launched out, freighted to his full
desire, upon his voyage. At his journey's end
he could find him the means to satisfy his wants
as their cravings demanded. Hungry, the forest
abounded with every variety of game from which
to choose his fare. Overtaken by nightfall, and
anxious for repose after the toils of a day, the
shadow of a rock, a shelter of boughs thrown
loosely together, or a bed of leaves with the broad
oak-branches overhead for cover, lent ample accom
modation for his comfort. In unrestricted freedom
he roamed the forest, knowing no law save the law

1 92 BLACK-ROBES.

of right between man and man, which he was
scrupulous to respect himself, and for which, in his
own behalf, he would have contended to the death.
Uneducated, and without opportunity of instruc
tion other than such as his own experience offered,
the sciences of the schools were sealed mysteries
to him, but his understanding was not wanting in
the "gifts" — well cultivated — that suited much
better the exigencies of his case. He had his
religion. If, in the practical working, it partook
of the severe type of the older dispensation, when
retaliation was a virtue, and " a tooth for a tooth "
an accepted maxim among the faithful, it was
because the flesh is weak, and temptation, with
treachery and cruelty to contend against, is strong;
and because man, until sanctified by the purer in
fluences of the gospel, is of the earth, earthy, — frail,
fallible, and inflammable.

The example of the adventurer was not lost upon
the squatter, nor that of the squatter upon the set
tlers; so that when, in a short time, the region was
filled with a more numerous population, its con
stituents came in for a share of the inheritance ; the
original leaven in the little was still perceptible in
the lump. In selecting lands for improvement, the
party intending to " locate" would choose out of
the unoccupied woods a desirable spot, with his
tomahawk hack off a chip from the corner trees
of his claim, and thus, without any of the formal
processes by which properties customarily fall into

THE METHODIST. 193

ownership, would take possession and proceed to
business. This novel style of indenture answered
every purpose, and was respected, between neigh
bor and neighbor, as inviolably as though executed
in parchment and sanctioned by affixture of wax
and seal, after the more legitimate fashion. First
having gave first right, — a right which, if possibly
any may have lacked the conscience, certainly
none had the hardihood to dispute. As the people
multiplied, and customs more in accordance with
civilized practice began to prevail, they were sub
mitted to as unavoidable necessities of the new
situation ; but in no case were they allowed to the
interference with ownerships, whether in properties
or privileges, acquired under the former usages.
The compass and the chain might mark out the
boundaries of new claims, but never cross the lines
already defined by the tomahawk. A title with a
deed was good, certainly, but equally so was one
without it, — probably better, as there was plausible
argument to offer, in time, when so many were
defrauded through the double-dealing of the land-
trader.

So with regard to the civil regulations of the
day. The borderer, although content to be a
nomos unto himself, was not averse to the intro
duction of " professional" law, and was content to
abide by its decrees ; provided, always, that they
were in accordance with his own individual notions
of justice. He would not divest himself of the

1 94 BLA CK-R OSES.

right to hang a highwayman or a horse-thief on
the nearest tree, in order that punishment (with
the intervening possibility of a flaw in the writ —
or the jail, to favor an escape) might be brought
about, more formally, through the verdict of a jury
and the sentence of a court. Neither would he
brook interference if, when wronged by the savage,
he chose, at his own time and in his own way, to
recover full satisfaction for the injury; and Mingo
and Delaware could well attest how severe was the
wrath of the Long-Knife, — as by way of distinction
1 the Virginian was called, — and how terrible his
revenge, when recompense was due for provoca
tion.

With the Ohio Company it was part of their
scheme of colonization to send out with the emi
grants men qualified to discharge the various min
istries of responsibility in the settlement. Marietta
was to be kept under guardianship until she be
came of age. For the management of her schools
teachers were provided. She had a superintendent
to regulate her public affairs. Magistrates were
appointed to administer justice ; physicians to wait
upon the sick ; while to look after her spiritual in
terests the services were engaged of the Rev. Daniel
Story, the "first regularly ordained Congregational
minister" in the Northwest Territory (1788).

The Virginians, on the other hand, could not —
indeed, did not care to — look for men to fill their
offices. As a want was felt and an opening for

THE METHODIST.

195

supply advertised itself, the candidate for the posi
tion, one of themselves, and not from solicitation, but
on his own motion and at his own venture, put in an
appearance. The country was not exempt from dis
eases. The Esculapian aspirant saw that infirmities
might be put to profit; noticed symptoms; made
himself acquainted with the remedies in vogue
among Indians and old women; gathered in supplies
of pink-root, sarsaparilla, ginseng, jalap, and ipecac ;
offered his services, and medicine became a profes
sion. Education was not in eminent favor along
the frontier. Boone, and Stewart, and Finley, and
Hoi den were not remembered as having been
patrons of learning ; and if they, the illustrious in
border history, were content to dispense with let
ters, might not their successors be satisfied ? But
there began to be those of more liberal views,
who were not disinclined to admit the advantages
of instruction : the Master was found to take ad
vantage of the concession, and schools were started,
backed by sufficient support to keep them in living
condition for two or three months, in the winter
time, out of the twelve.

People who have once enjoyed the opportunities
of Christian worship are seldom entirely weaned
from their attachment to its observances. The
dwellers on the frontier, partly through choice,
but mainly from necessity, may have neglected the
duties to which they had formerly been accustomed,
but their respect for the word, its ordinances, and its

1 96 BLA CK-R OBES.

ministers, had never failed. The pioneer may have
left his Bible back among the forsaken properties
of home, but the lessons gathered from its pages
were not forgotten. As the floating elements of
which it was composed settled down, and society
began to assume orderly shape, the church was
felt to be a prime desideratum. But how was its
establishment to be brought about? Domestic
missionary societies were not in existence. La
borers, except of unevangelical order, would not
volunteer without hire ; and silver and gold had
they none to offer. As in the case of the other
professions, if they were to be served they must
serve themselves. Out of their own Galilee must
arise their own prophets. There were men among
them willing for the office; but to be fitted for it,
according to orthodox rule, would require years of
preparatory training in schools far removed and
difficult of access.

But a new order of the priesthood had lately
arisen. Rev. John Wesley, of the Church of Eng
land, impressed with the conviction that he was
divinely appointed for some extraordinary work,
carried his enthusiasm so far as to run into certain
irregularities, on account of which he was debarred
the privilege of the pulpit. Not to be silenced, he
invited hearers, and in the open air at Moorfields
addressed the multitude. So great was the success
of the experiment that he was induced to persevere
in it, making frequent journeys abroad through the

THE METHODIST.

197

country, and preaching daily in the streets, fields,
and cemeteries, before large and admiring assem
blies. Although he himself maintained to the end
his connection with the Episcopal Church, his
labors resulted in the establishment of a separate
ecclesiastical organization, which spread rapidly at
home, and in due time extended beyond the ocean.
To look after the spiritual interests of the classes
which were formed in different localities, "leaders"
were appointed from among the laity, who were
authorized to exercise all the ordinary functions of
the preacher. A "call" to that post, without re
gard to intellectual fitness, was the single qualifica
tion required. It was the style of institution that
suited the wants of the frontier precisely. The
young forester, abandoning his axe and rifle at the
cabin door as the disciples their nets by the sea,
took up his easy license and started abroad, the
duly commissioned standard-bearer of the Faith.
Its solitary places awakened at the sound of his
voice crying in the wilderness. His labors pros
pered, his circuits widened, and soon, throughout
the length and the breadth of the land, the Meth
odist was known, famously and familiarly, as, par
eminence, the Minister of the West, — the Black-
Rob oft! e Border.

198 BLACK-ROBES.

II.

THE ARREST, AWAKENING, CONVICTION, CONVERSION,
AND THE CALL OF THE PREACHER.

A GLANCE at his earlier life, his adventures,
and his experiences, will be appropriate as
serving to illustrate the character of the Methodist
preacher of the border. Abundant facilities for
this purpose' are offered in the autobiographies
which he has contributed for the popular edifica
tion and entertainment. Their details present him
in the various circumstances and vicissitudes of his
career : as a thoughtless worldling, weoMed to un
hallowed pursuits and amusements ; as a volup
tuary, tempted and fallen into sin ; as an alarmed
offender led to penitence; and as the humbled
creature of conviction made the hopeful subject
of conversion. The portrayal is thorough and
complete.

He is generally born of poor but respectable
parents. More or less religious influence has
been brought to bear upon him in his childhood ;
usually — although his father has not always
proved delinquent — through the instrumentality of
his mother ; herself an old Virginia Presbyterian
most likely, unless, under the eloquence of White-
field, made a convert to the creed of the Moor-

THE METHODIST. 199

fields Reformer. His Christian education, like his
secular, however, has been, at best, a limited one,
not often extending beyond a knowledge of the
Lord's Prayer, the Ten Commandments, and a
lesson or two out of the Mother's Catechism. Yet
is he not unaccustomed to the forms of religious
observance. He has seen church service, has knelt
at evening worship in the family, and been used to
the "Now I lay me down to sleep" of his own
private devotions. Thus far experience has gone;
giving its dash of color to his life, its faint outline
of impression to his character, to die out utterly,
or attain a ripe finish of shape and complexion,
as future contingencies may determine, — thus far,
and no farther.

In his youth we find him, if not born on Western
soil, drifted thither with the tide of emigration, one
of a still unbroken household group, gone in quest
of better faring to the border. The old home-altar
is re-established, and its ceremonies attempted
anew, but the experiment staggers ; with the
public administration of the ordinances neglected,
example decays at the fireside; the zeal of the
votary languishes, and anon the form even of
the simple domestic ritual drops into desuetude.
The reins of discipline relax ; the disembarrassed
boy, eager to profit by the release, throws himself
with entire abandonment, like an impatient hound
freed from his leash, or a colt from its tether, into
whatever scheme of pleasure first offers or best

200 BLA CK- ROBES.

attracts. He has an ear for music, — an eye for
motion; a fiddle and a ball-room, the "Arkansas
Traveler" and a Virginia hoe-down, are irresisti
ble allurements. He hears, — sees, — engages a
partner for the next set, and the text of the Ten
Commandments begins to fade ; when he most
needs to remember, he first forgets his " Lead us
not into temptation." Or he has a taste for play,
— enters the card-room, soon learns to hold his
hand, and pockets his hazards, too ; has his steady
hours at the table, and is presently the devoted
servant of seven-up, old sledge, and poker. Or the
easily besetting sin of the love of horse-flesh over
reaches him, and he takes to the race-course, backs
his charger, leaps to the contest, and over a broader
way and with other goal and guerdon ahead than
he entered for, rides to win — and to lose. Fairly
enlisted in the devil's service, his progress does not
halt. He scoffs at morality ; he swears; he drinks;
he frolics ; he fights, and is soon proficient in all
the gentlemanly vices of the backwoods.

It is entertaining to notice with what a flavor of
fondness the reverend autobiographer looks back
from his later lenten standpoint and lingers over
this wild, licentious carnival-period in his life ! how
his appetite seems to whet; and his chaps to melt,
at the mere recollection of the savory flesh-pots of
the demoralized, discarded, dear old Egypt ! Nor
is he, indeed, ever entirely liberated from the
tyranny of the passions to which he then sue-

THE METHODIST. 2OI

cumbed. Jacob Young, the reverend, had always
a fancier's eye for a steed, and boasts of the fine
Arabian horse on which he threaded the morasses
and swam the streams in his circuit-ridings. His
original relish for the ring which Peter the Sinner
had cultivated was not totally lost to Peter the
Saint, in Cartwright's conversion; and the gusto is
eminently professional with which he tells, through
all the particulars, of a personal rencounter with a
certain disturber of the peace at a camp-meeting,
in which, after a solid round or two, he came off
victorious ; and how, on another occasion, he took
an attitude and pluckily called out, " Don't you
attempt to strike me," to a certain Major L., who
had " clinched his fists" with that ostensible pur
pose in view, " for if you do, and the devil gets out
of you into me, I shall give you the worst whip
ping you ever got in all your life."

But the carnal diversions of society by free in
dulgence lose, at length, their attraction, and then
the satiate profligate, perhaps, takes a fancy, like
Finley, for roving, — straps his blanket on his back,
shoulders his rifle, and is off for the woods. The
life has its trials, but is one of ever-varying adven
ture, the excitements of which afford abundant
recompense for whatever of danger or discomfort
may attend its pursuit. It is not necessarily a
wicked one. To shoot a bear, and make a break
fast next morning on the rare delicacy of his paw,
baked slowly overnight in the hot ashes of the

202 BLA CK-R OBES.

camp-fire ; to bag a wild turkey and dine upon it
at mid-day; or to dispatch, by good luck, a buffalo
and partake of his tongue with one's tea (whatever
the decoction may be) in the evening ; to bring
down a raccoon or a wild-cat, and, in a strait, make
a meal upon either, when roasts that might be
preferable are not procurable; or to make merchan
dise of the hides and furs of all of them, — ought
scarcely to occasion pangs of remorse, and, indeed,
do not ; but the Sabbath has been desecrated, — the
crack of the rifle has disturbed its hallowed rest,
and the inheritance of a guilty, self-accusing con
science, which shall find a discovery one day, is
entailed upon the profaner.

As poison is administered to purge from poison,
so the very excess of indulgence often leads to the
correction of the habit. The sports to which the
young devotee is addicted have found him, season
in and season out, a faithful patron. The appointed
time has always seen him at the appointed place.
He has sustained his part well, — taken to it heartily,
enjoyed it lustily, and left it at last without a feel
ing of disquietude, unless it might be one of regret
that the hours of delight should have proved so
evanescent. And yet once, in the order of Provi
dence, it happens, after a run of luck high in his
favor at the card-table, perhaps, or at the close of
a more than ordinarily brilliant scene of festivity, as
on his favorite racer he rides towards home in the
night, he is suddenly arrested on the way by the

THE METHODIST.

203

miraculous shining of a great light, such as chal
lenged the awe of Saul of Tarsus on his way to
Damascus. The sight staggers him. He begins
to reflect. He feels guilty and condemned. Of a
sudden the blood rushes to his head. His heart
palpitates. In a few minutes he turns blind. An
awful impression rests on his mind that death has
come, and that he is unprepared to die, when much
alarmed he lifts his voice to heaven and asks God to
have mercy on him. Reaching home, he retires to
bed, but finds little rest, and rises in the morning
feeling wretched beyond expression. He tries to
read the. Testament, requests his father to sell his
race-horse for him, and hands over his pack of
cards to his mother, who throws them into the fire.
It is the dawn of a new and momentous era in
his life. Conviction has overtaken him. Like an
attack of the bowel-complaint or the measles, and
with symptoms as clearly marked through the
various stages of progress, it lays hold of him,
vexes him, and brings him down. He complains
of broken sleep ; of a fevered, irregular pulse ; loss
of appetite ; dismal apprehensions ; ghastly visions
and nightmares. To shake ofF the disease he re
sorts to remedies, — the accustomed ones, first, of a
glass of whisky, or a turn on the turf, or a set-to
at seven-up. These only aggravate the trouble,
and are dismissed for other and better expedients.
Retiring to a solitary grove, he spends hours in
meditation, moaning like a dove that has lost his

204 BLACK-ROBES.

mate, and crying like the crane in the desert ; but
his distress does not abate. Returning to society
again, a sympathizing sister, likely, suggests sing
ing and prayer, which, when had, afford some re
lief. An effect of this treatment is weeping, and a
plentiful flow of tears is comforting. Dreams are
found to be refreshing ; active exercise in the open
air serves a good purpose, and repeating the nar
rative of his experience in the presence of atten
tive listeners at the prayer-meeting is peculiarly
soothing.

At length, after a longer or shorter siege of trial,
his griefs suddenly disappear. A flash of light,
"shining from the south part of heaven," gleams in
upon his soul : he is translated into the kingdom,
—born into a new sphere of glorious existence,
and finds peace — ecstatic peace — in believing. As
he imagines ; but prematurely, as it turns out, for
anon he discovers that the deliverance upon which
he has congratulated himself is a delusion, — the
translation a mistake,— -the new birth a miscarriage.
A lapse from grace, either to magnify the virtue,
or to exemplify a dogma, would seem to be an ab
solute necessity as a precedent to its perfect attain
ment ; and he lapses. Still, though fallen, he is
not lost.

A second awakening takes place, attended by
similar phenomena with the first, and working
towards the same salutary end ; but the progress
is blocked by serious obstacles which were not

THE METHODIST. 2O$

encountered before. Then, oppressed with a sense
of sinfulness, and anxious only on the score of for
giveness, he had addressed himself accordingly;
content to implore, " God be merciful to me, a
sinner !" and satisfied, as the ground of his hope in
Jesus, with a faith whose only and all-sufficient
article was the unwritten one — inexpressible, but
fathomable easily and infallible — of the poor
woman of Capernaum, — a lifted finger, and a touch
of the hem of his garment. But his theological
studies — for he has read, since conviction, the
New Testament to some extent — have made him
an "inquirer" in a new sense. Now, he cannot
accept grace unless he understands precisely how
he gets it, on what terms, at whose cost, and
whether he holds it inalienably, or at the option,
liable to be revoked, of the donor. He hesitates
to reach at the purifying garment until he masters
the mystery of its manufacture; how it is woven,
after what pattern, and of what thread, — particularly
the hem of it. The church (as comprehended in
his notion of that institution) has become his
object of interest instead of Christ. He must find
a way to follow the Way already provided. To
win the crown he must run the gauntlet of the
creeds. Of Presbyterian parentage, quite likely, he
has naturally a preference for that persuasion. " If
I could only convince myself that Calvinism is
true," he says, "I would be satisfied." But he
trips at the horrid idea of the doctrine of Particular
18

206 BLA CK-R OSES.

Election and Reprobation, and stumbles against
numerous other heresies, until finally he sees, " as
clearly as that two and two make four, that if the
Bible is true the Old Confession is false." The
converse of the proposition holds good, of course ;
and, as he does not care yet to relinquish the
Bible, further passage by the Westminster route is
given up, and search made for another. He is
attracted by the New Lights ; but " when he hears
their doctrine on the Supreme Divinity of Jesus
Christ, he will not go with them," impressed as he
is "with a clear and powerful demonstration of the
truth, that if Christ is not God He is powerless to
save." He tries the Shaking Quakers ; but their
worship is so ridiculous that the bare thought of
following up on that line is preposterous. The
Seceders invite attention ; but the professors of
that school are too scandalously immoral, being
addicted to intoxication, and having scarcely the
form of godliness about them. Communion with
such a circle is out of the question. Then he tries
to carve out a way of his own, along which to travel
to heaven alone ; but, as one astray in the wilder
ness, without star or compass to guide him, is apt
to wander back circuitously to his starting-point,
he shortly~finds himself bringing up at the old
booth on the race-course, and that scheme is
abandoned.

At this juncture it so happens that a challenge
salutes the inquirer from a new quarter entirely.

THE METHODIST. 2O/

Wesleyanism, surely established now in the East,
has reached the West. Brother Hickman, on a
tour of observation (1776), and Lewis Lunford, the
Patrick Henry of the pulpit (1779), — first of their
sect to penetrate the wilderness, — are assembling
the backwoodsmen in the cabins, barns, or open
woods, and addressing them with an eloquence
which is irresistible and convincing. He joins the
throng in attendance at their meetings, — hears, is
enraptured, and exults at the thought that at last
he has hit upon the manifest highway to glory.
He first appears at these assemblages, which are
kept up daily, and is thoroughly awakened, per
haps on a Monday. On Tuesday he is brought
under profound conviction, and is so distressingly
affected that when he flees to the woods for relief
" he does not dare to take his gun with him, for
fear he should, in the hour of the power of dark
ness, commit suicide." The dawn of Wednesday
finds him praying and wrestling, which exercise,
with fasting and humiliation, is maintained through
the day and all the night following. On Thursday
he is about to resume his devotions, when sud
denly, at say twenty-two minutes before six in
the morning, " the light pours upon him in such
a manner, and in such a measure," that he falls to
the earth, shouting and praising God, so as to be
heard over the neighborhood, and is converted.
He has entered the second time into the womb, and
is born again.

208 BLACK-ROBES.

In the working out of the reformatory process
which the " seeker " undergoes, each new phase of
development is signalized by its attending super
natural manifestation. God specially interposes
and is present in every act of his grace, not spirit
ually and metaphorically, but really and sensibly ;
as does, and is also, on the other hand, the Prince
of Darkness, when alarmed for his interests at the
detected disloyalty of a subject. At his awakening,
sudden blindness (each step in the proceeding is
always noted as "sudden," — "instant," — "like an
electric flash ") seizes the sinner. Under convic
tion, he hears a voice speaking out of heaven in
syllables of censure or of admonition, and quotes
its utterance ; or a celestial messenger visits and
counsels him in vision, while he sleeps; or the
devil meets him in a cavern in the woods, whither
he has retired to pray, in such unquestionable
guise, and with so unmistakable an intent " to seize
and drag him down to hell, soul and body," that he
starts to his feet affrighted, takes to his heels, and
runs, full speed, to his mother, knitting at home
in her cabin, for protection. Conversion comes,
attended with a literal display of light ineffable and
full of glory : the subject of it distinctly hears a
voice announce, "Thy sins are all forgiven thee !" —
gives attention with ear and eye, and really wit
nesses the mountains and the hills break forth into
singing, and all the trees of the fields clap their
hands, in irrepressible ecstasy at the event.

THE METHODIST. 209

After conversion comes the Call. The "convict"
spends an hour following the crisis of his rescue,
in a delirium of rapture, catching, peradventure,
his wife in his arms, running round the house, and
shouting, "Salvation ! salvation!" so that his neigh
bors think him drunk or crazy. While thus exer
cised, a voice falls " like a falling star" from heaven,
saying, " Go, preach my gospel !" upon which he
immediately responds, "Yes, Lord, if thou wilt go
with me." Forthwith, not tarrying to confer with
flesh and blood, but hurrying out as fast as he can to
the nearest cabin, he calls its inmates together and
begins to proclaim a risen Saviour who has power
on earth to forgive sins. Or perchance he may
hesitate at the divinely indicated line of duty ; he
may, with modest emphasis, deny his fitness for the
priestly office, — may withdraw to the woods and tell
his Maker that if it is pressed to the alternative that
he must preach the gospel or go to. hell, he must go
to hell, for he has not the least qualification for the
work. As results of this resistance to the designs of
Providence, he loses all comfort, becomes gloomy^
and despondent, and from a state of robust health
is reduced almost to a walking skeleton. But the
invisible, mighty pressure continues. There is no
mistaking, nor indeed any thought of questioning,
its source. At length he ceases to oppose, — with
becoming humility acquiesces in the appointment,
— puts on the harness, and, to his speedy convales
cence, and the healthy restoration of his dwindled
18*

2 1 o BLA CK-R OBES.

flesh and depressed spirits, enters the lists and takes
the field. Saul of Tarsus at sunrise is Paul the
Apostle at noon, and appoints to meet and address
his impenitent friends at Mars' Hill by early candle
light in the evening.

III.

THE PREACHER IN THE PULPIT.

THE idea of "preparation" for the ministry was
one that never found favor for a moment in the
Methodist mind. Learning was regarded as not
only unnecessary, but actually objectionable, in the
Black-Robe; who was. presumed to be chosen of
God as his officer, either by act of foreordination,
opposed though such a view was to a favorite de
nominational tenet, or by special election, just as he
was ; and for whom, in such a case, to try to improve
upon his qualifications, would be to doubt the wis
dom and defeat an evident design of the Almighty.
The blind, notwithstanding the proverb, were the
true leaders of the blind. Rev. Jacob Young, at one
time, thought to try the experiment of a literary,
scientific, and theological course, but soon found
that it would not work. God, in token of disap
proval, hid his countenance from him; the Bible
became a sealed book; he lost his comfort, was

THE METHODIST. 211

attacked with a violent fever, and severe pain in his
head, and only got well when he abandoned letters
and fell back on inspiration. One of his cotempora-
ries testifies that he would rather have the gift of a
devil-dislodging power than all the college lore or
biblical-institute knowledge that could be obtained
from mortal man ; and gives it as his opinion that
the best course of preparation for the pulpit is to
take your sinner, shake him awhile over hell, then
knock the scales from his eyes, and, without any
previous theological training, send him out straight
way to preach Jesus and the Resurrection. A
writer, while he records it, boasts of the fact that,
among the thousands of traveling and local preach
ers in his church, there were not more than fifty
that had anything more than a common English
education, and scores of them not that ; and that
not one of them was ever trained in a theological
school, yet hundreds of them had more seals to
their ministry than all the sapient, downy D.D.'s
in modern times, presiding in the various institu
tions throughout the land. These plainly-spoken
views were not entertained by the commoners
merely of the profession, but had the concurrence
of the chief dignitaries as well, — Bishop Asbury
among the rest.

The study of men was recommended as the solely
profitable one ; that of books, condemned as super
fluous. Christ had no literary college or university,
no theological school or biblical institute, to train

212 BLACK-ROBES.

his disciples in. On the contrary, He showed his
contempt for all such establishments by selecting
his followers from the lowest and least-enlightened
classes of society. True, the Black-Robe of the
better-informed minority, as we have seen, was not
utterly and absolutely unskilled in letters. With
the print in clear, round type, under a favorable
light, and with careful attention, having previously
conned the lesson, he could read a chapter tolerably
intelligibly from the New Testament, or the lines of
a stanza from the hymn-book. As a somewhat com
mon, although not invariable, rule, he could also
write. On one recorded occasion he was requested
by a lady, under whose roof he was tarrying for a
night, while on the tour of his circuit, to act as her
amanuensis in a trifling matter of correspondence.
Blushingly, and with unfeigned diffidence, he as
sumed the task, and it is with a pardonable air of
proud satisfaction that he relates to the narrator
of the incident the success — rather, it would seem,
to the surprise of both parties — attending the ex
periment. The Presbyterian preacher who had
served the apprenticeship required by the school
to which he belonged, — who was manufactured
like a head of lettuce in a hot-house, — and who was
wont to sermonize from manuscripts, was an object
of mingled pity and disdain. His messages, like
cold meats, carved no matter how neatly, were
stale, flat, and unpalatable, which the border sinner
might taste once in awhile, perhaps, but, used

THE METHODIST. 213

to hot and savory indulgences, could never be
tempted to accept as a standing diet. The Method
ist would set the world on fire while the Presby
terian — formal, precise, and measured as to his
deliveries — was lighting his matches.

Sir Geoffrey Hudson could wield a sword and
join as valiantly as Prince Rupert in a sally against
the train-bands of London, and with as full a
trust in the efficiency of the blade he flourished,
although there were but twenty inches of him, all
told, to show in comparison with the full stature
of his illustrious fellow-martialist. The Methodist
Black-Robe was not of inferior virtue to the pygmy
knight in one striking particular at least. Re
posing a confidence in his own power of achieve
ment that was never shaken by disaster, he not only
felt himself the peer of any ecclesiastical Rupert,
the princeliest that ever handled spiritual iron, but
would volunteer a charge, unsupported and alone,
against all the- train-bands of Christendom com
bined. There was no question within the range
of theological inquiry which he did not hold him
self reaSy, at a moment's notice, to solve to the
entire satisfaction of any audience. He unolerstood
all mysteries and all knowledge : points of doctrine,
made the lifetime subjects of investigation by less
enlightened students of the word, and perhaps not
clearly settled then, he was ready to pronounce
upon off-hand, and with an air of decision that
would have done credit to an Ecumenical Council.

2i4 BLACK-ROBES.

It was difficult, if not impossible, to match him at
a controversy. He could settle the business of a
Calvinistic professor on the subject of Election,
handsomely and conclusively, at a single tilt, and
within the space of two minutes. " A few ques
tions," says Finley, "would invariably silence him."
The Baptist he found rather a tough customer, but
in ordinary cases he could floor his antagonist of
that cloth in half a dozen rounds at furthest. He
could ring the changes on Bapto with a facility that
was marvelous in the ears of the multitude, who
were not always aware of the extent of his acquire
ments, and who did not know that from his one
acquaintance with the original texts in both cases
he might, with the same skill precisely, have gone
into the discussion of a disputed hieroglyph on an
Egyptian obelisk.

In the matter of pronunciation he was somewhat
irregular, not conforming exactly to the rules in
request among acknowledged authorities. His
accents, dropped pretty much at random, were apt
to fall where they were not designed to fit; his
vowels were not invariably true to their" colors ;
not a few of the consonants used to double duty
would strike out in one capacity when they should
have served in another ; while syllables, especially
the inferior ones of the heavier combinations, were
sadly slighted, and, indeed, sometimes ignored
altogether. Words were liable to similar discour
tesy, being frequently introduced, under perverted

THE METHODIST. 215

names, into strange company, and made not only
to suffer themselves, on the suspicion of false
pretense, by the association, but now and then to
implicate their new neighbors as conniving at the
imposition. As for language, his vocabulary was
not very extensive, but its resources were suffi
ciently abundant for his purpose. What he knew,
he knew all the more intimately for not knowing
more. The telling, trenchant, hell-fire-and-damna-
tion dialect of the turf, the bar, and the ball-room
he had carried over with him in his "brimstone
wallet," as he facetiously terms it, at his conver
sion, and since kept in readiness to shake over the
heads of insulting and profane sinners among his
hearers.

In the pulpit the Methodist Black-Robe was in
his element. The unembarrassed step with which
he mounted the platform ; his seemingly half-uncon
sciousness of the act, as with a glance of customary
— so he would have it appear — rather than curious
observation he lifted his eyes and swept the space
filled by his hearers, as a chess-player does his board,
ere the game quite opens, to see that the pieces are
complete and properly adjusted in their places ; the
showy carelessness with which he extracted his
folios from his person — it was his boast that he
carried all his library, Testament, hymn-book, and
" Discipline" composing the catalogue, in his
pocket — and laid them down, with much delibera
tion, volume by volume, on the desk; and the

2 1 6 BLA CK-R OBES.

gratifying complacency with which, flourishing
his handkerchief, he proceeded to clear his throat,
and his nose, violently, of such imaginary or real
obstruction to clear speech as might lodge, or be
supposed to lodge, in either, — all were admirably
calculated, and intended, as so many advertise
ments to the people that, in the speaker about to
address them, they beheld the right man in the
right place, and no mistake, — one who was per
fectly at home in it, and thorough master of the
situation.

His sermons were originals ; not borrowed or
copied from the standard styles of the time, but
fashioned after a pattern peculiarly their own. In
their composition he did not allow himself to be
hampered by the restrictions ordinarily regarded as
indispensable to excellence in the art. He did not
adhere with undeviating fidelity to the straight
forward pursuit of an argument, preferring to
loiter by the way, as attractive fancies now and
again sprang in his path to invite to dalliance ;
or, tempted by a suggestion, — butterfly-like darted
up to divert him, — to follow the lure in its excur
sive flight, to the relinquishment of the line of his
main purpose altogether. His texts — or mottoes,
to speak more accurately, because they rather in
dicated than really formed his subjects of decla
mation — were selections from the Scriptures of
such passages or phrases as might be introduced
with effect to swell a sentence or round a period, —

THE METHODIST. 2 1/

which, with wonderful facility, he could contrive
to do, let the tone of the topic vary as it might,
— "for he played on a harp of a thousand strings /"
His treatment of a subject varied according to
the circumstances attending its delivery. The
several styles from which he had to choose were
" the argumentative, the dogmatic, the postidary,
the persuasive, the punitive, the combative,, the
logical, and the poetic." As affording a broader
field for the exercise of his talents, and as, indeed,
capable, in his hands, of embodying all the effective
force without the heaviness of the others, the
" poetic" stood in chief favor. The preliminary
details of his discourses were managed with a tone
and action remarkable for moderation, and the
steady, stately tenor of their rendering. Here it
was he exhibited himself in his more solid, "argu
mentative " mood ; seizing the occasion, as the
most opportune, for a specimen-display of his
qualities in reserve, and to furnish a hint of the
wind and bottom to be depended upon when, pres
ently, both should be put to the trial. So, on the
turf in his sporting-days, he may have walked his
courser round and about the starting-post, to show
his parts, set forth his points, and prove his train
ing, before the eyes of admiring beholders, ere
opening upon the proper career, where the glory
came in, for which he was entered. But no sooner
was this ceremony ended and the moment for
" business " arrived, than a striking change became
19

2 1 8 BLA CK-R OBES.

apparent. The face of the orator flushed, his eye
brightened like the eyelids of the morning, the
sonorous voice for which he was famous let out
its power, and " his gestures grew animated as the
waftures of a fiery torch." Poetry, madly broke
loose, took to wild flight, and, cleaving space, went
whirling through the distances without regard to
laws of limitation: ascending up to heaven, de
scending into hell, taking the wings of the morning
and speeding to the uttermost parts of the sea;
plucking bright honors from the moon, sun, stars,
weaving to itself garlands from the lightning's
wings, toying with tempests, and grasping infernal
thunder, black fire, and horror from the nether
abysses.

This particular style, however, was not sus
tained uninterruptedly through the performance,
but was relieved at appropriate intervals by such in
tercalary passages of pleasantry, sarcasm, ridicule,
or rebuke, as ordinarily, having a direct personal
application, could not fail to elicit interest and
keep wide awake the attention of an audience.
Some indiscreet or disorderly sinner would violate
a custom, or otherwise offend against decorum,
during service. The preacher, perhaps in the
midst of one of his sublimest soarings, would
pause, point a lifted finger at the offender, — whose
misdemeanor may have been, suppose, that he
had appropriated accommodation to himself, and
made a conspicuous show of it, among the females

„ THE METHODIST. 219

on their exclusive side of the house, — let his voice
drop from its strained pitch in alt, to the deep bari
tone level most effective for conveyance of reproof,
and, after stating in measured terms his charge, to
identify the culprit beyond mistake, would say,
" I mean that young man there, standing on the
seats of the ladies, with a ruffled shirt on, and I
doubt not that the ruffled shirt was borrowed."
In such-like quaint and pleasing episodes the
orator could indulge at his pleasure, and with
none the less freedom, that under protection of
his cloth he knew he was safely sheltered against
retaliation. And yet it sometimes happened, as
with the Rev. C. in the instance quoted, that the
party denounced would kick against the grievance.
With a respect for propriety which the clerical
brother might have imitated to advantage, the
ruffled shirt waited until the congregation was dis
missed, and then quietly informed the divine that
he proposed to whip him. C. accepted the chal
lenge, suggesting that they should retire to the
woods " to fight it out." A fence lay in their
way; jumping over it, C. sprained his ankle, and
put his hand to his side. " Damn you," said he
of the ruffles, suspicious of concealed weapons,
" you're feeling for a dirk, are you ?" " Yes," re
plied the reverend, — which was not strictly true, and
indeed, although C., in the narration, would make
it appear as an innocent bit of facetiousness, in the
fact was manifestly intended to deceive and intimi-

220 BLACK-ROBES.

date, — " yes, and I will give you the benefit of all
I have," charging at once on the enemy's works
as he said it. The ruffled shirt, unarmed as he was,
made a leap and put the fence between himself and
his opponent. A party of "rowdies," friends and
backers of the priestly pugilist, joined in; the
offender was surrounded, bound with hickory-bark
to a pole, taken to a pond not far from the camp
ground, and " ducked nearly to death." Mr. C,
meanwhile, stood by and consented, like Paul on
a somewhat similar occasion, — although that was
before the apostle's conversion. He refers to the
whole transaction as one of a highly amusing
character.

Comprehensively, the wit of the preacher may
be described as of that purely Shakspearean order
which, in a different sphere, and more recently, has
given his classical reputation to a conspicuous
fancier of the immortal text, and who stands con
nected, in the popular mind, with associations of
the tented arena, motley tights and tan-bark. In
this connection, by the way, and as a coincidence
perhaps deserving notice, a characteristic fact is
on record, which, as it has been made, personally,
matter of special parade, each in his own ring, by
both circuit- and circus-rider, should be mentioned;
namely, that while one, as a strong feature for his
bills, has made a boast of his "one-horse show,"
so has the other, with an equal flourish on the
autobiographical page, of his " one-man congre-

THE METHODIST. 221

gation." Scrupulous moralists and men of fas
tidious taste might take exception, now and then,
to the sayings of such Christian orators as the
" Pulpit-Thumper," the " Bull-Dog," the " New
Market Devil," and the "Sinai Thunderer" in
their humorous moods, — when " Mather in his best
comedy" and "Sheridan in his funniest farce"
showed not 'half their mirth-provoking power, —
and yet why should they, when prime ministers
of the communion, grave and reverend annalists
of the times, have not hesitated to excuse and
to approve ? Under which canvas could it have
been that Mr. Merryman called out, " Pray on,
Brother Walker, and if he [an obstreperous inter-
ferer] cuts up any capers, I'll down him and hold
him till you're done, for the kingdom of heaven suf
fer eth violence, and the violent take it by force" ? Is
it hippodrome or house-of-God vernacularism that
the performer employs when he exclaims, ''Watch
and pray, friends ; don't let the devil get among you
on the sly, before candle-light"? Which humorist
was it that relates how on a certain occasion, in a
dispute with one of his own cloth, he "blowed
this proselyting, sheep-stealing preacher to Never,
where another Baptist preacher that he once
heard of, would have gone if he had jumped off" ?
The prayer of the service was of like composi
tion, both in matter and manner, with the sermon.
It was entered upon calmly, and with some regard
to order in the conception and delivery. The voice,
19*

222 BLACK-ROBES.

keyed to a natural tone, syllabled itself articulately
and deliberately, moving not unstatelily as to the
Dorian mood of flutes and soft recorders ; while
the action was just and in appropriate harmony
with the speech. But, as the petitioner proceeded,
the sober method soon, and by rapid develop
ment, began to manifest symptoms of derangement.
Accelerating in pace and strengthening in power,
his utterance ran the ascending intervals of the
scale, until the height was won and the intensity
reached, beyond which the capacities of the organ,
in spite of superhuman effort, could not attain.
To sustain the lofty elevation imposed a hard strain
upon his energies, but the ordeal was gallantly met,
and pluckily endured, although the severity of the
labor told with torturing effect upon the machinery
of the man. The veins upon his neck and forehead
stood out full and round, like cords ; great drops
of sweat hung on his brow ; the red tinging his
cheeks darkened to purple ; his lips grew livid ;
the motion of his jaws churned the secretions of
their engendering, and the foam as it accumulated
oozed clammily out at the corners of his mouth,
thence darting in spumy flecks away upon the cur
rent of his breath over the heads of the people, or
settling back, checked ever and anon by long-
drawn inspirations sharply hissing through the
half-closed teeth, into its proper reservoir.

At such a pitch of soaring, while lungs and mus
cles failed not, it was possible to keep sound and

THE METHODIST.

223

fury afloat, — but not with other ballast than the
proverb allows them. The atmosphere was too
thin for reason to breathe in. Up in a balloon, the
scared sense lost its sanity and went a-raving. All
was disorder, all confusion. Still, through the tur
moil and the tangle, the busy tongue tripped on ;
saying the more, more vehemently, the less it had
to say ; quoting and misquoting scraps of Scrip
ture ; addressing the Almighty by his most awful
titles in rounds of endless repetition; vociferous
with exclamations; full of strange oh's ; and all with
such an accompaniment of yells, and shrieks, and
groans, and " windy suspirations of forced breath,"
and clapping of hands, and shouts of glory, as,
almost excusably, to tempt the uninitiated to
suspect of the Deity appealed to, that " either
He was talking, or He was pursuing, or He was
in a journey, or peradventure He slept and must
be awakened."

For the few minutes customarily allotted to this
exercise, and until near its close, the style intense
was kept in play, all the while, with unflagging
activity. Suddenly, then, as by some trick of
magic, arrested in mid-career, it paused. The rigor
and tension of the countenance relaxed; the veiny
currents resumed their natural flow, the cheeks
and lips their wonted color. The storm was over,
— ceased on the instant; and out of the great calm
that ensued, fallen at a drop to the gentle tone and
attunement of its opening, briefly the voice gave

224 BLACK-ROBES.

the rounding clause to its orison, and the prayer
was ended.

The singing of the service was, perhaps, its most
attractive feature. The hymns before sermon were
generally selections from the book, read out couplet
by couplet, for the accommodation of the congre
gation, among whom copies of the text, and — not to
put the case too pointedly — spectacles, were much
wanting. The preacher acted as his own clerk and
chorister, choosing for his "tune" Dundee's wild,
warbling strain, or plaintive Martyrs, or some other
of the standard chants common to all the various
denominations of the border. These compositions
were of too staid a character to elicit that degree of
enthusiasm to which the Methodist mind was par
tial, but, nevertheless, were rendered with no little
spirit. The voices all, male and female, sang in
unison. Music had not risen to the dignity of a
profession in the wilderness as yet, and it was not
to be expected that its rules were to govern strictly
in the performances. Time, as an element in the
movement, was regulated by chance, and chance
by the loudest pair of lungs. As Stentor led the
way, the inferior organs followed, catching, by
quick imitation, his style, and conforming to his
paces with a remarkable felicity of adaptation.

But the hymns of the people — the characteristic
ones which reached to the heart and provoked the
liveliest response — were those of native invention,
not put down in the book, and therefore, vastly to

THE METHODIST. 22$

the popular preference, not necessitating the ser
vices of the prompter at the desk. The compo
sition of these hymns was peculiar. They were
characterized by extreme simplicity, — not always
accurate, by any means, in their rhythmical ar
rangement, but perhaps — for even faults will have
their fascination — borrowing a feature of attraction
from that very fact. As to their probable origin, —
if, in the pursuit of his solitary route, the circuit-
rider should at any time have had his attention
arrested, while passing near some corn-field in a
clearing, by a sound of voices singing, in plaintive
remembrance of former times and scenes, to the
play of hoes among the growing stalks, —

" Whar, oh, whar is my good ole fader,
Whar, oh, whar is my good ole fader,
Whar, oh, whar is my good ole fader? '
'Way down in de Car'lina State.

By-an'-by we do hope to meet 'im,
By-an'-by we do hope to meet Mm,
By-an'-by we do hope to meet 'im,
'Way down in de Car'lina State," —

nothing could be more natural than that, struck
alike by the pleasing mood of the melody and the
simple art of the stanzas, he should have thought
of the fine adaptability of both, with certain easy
and obvious modifications of sentiment in the latter,
for devotional purposes. His next appointment
sees the experiment made. It proves a success ;
and the secular ditty, converted so as to read,

226 BLA CK-R OBES.

" Where, oh, where, now, is good old Isaac," or
"Jacob," or " Elijah," or "the Hebrew Children," or
any other saintly nominee, with the refrain spiritual
ized into, " Away down in the Promised Land,"
has its new, gospel destiny, — and will keep it, to
animate the ardor and gladden the hearts of wor
shipers, for many and many a year to come.

Upon such terms of construction it was not diffi
cult to frame verses. Melodies, as involving the
exercise of invention, were the main want, — a want,
however, conveniently satisfied, when it was dis
covered that a change of art was as possible as
a change of heart, and that profane music could
be brought under sanctifying influence as well as
ungodly minds. Soon, therefore, this source of
supply laid under contribution, quite a collection
of airs was amassed ; sufficient to keep up the due
proportion of praise through the closing devotional
services, let the interest of the occasion protract
them as it might. Of these melodies, some con
tinue, not unworthily, to hold a place, even as yet,
in the local popular favor. If discarded almost en
tirely from the camp, for instance, that plaintive
air is not <. forgotten thing of beauty in the cot
tages that dot the scenes of its ancient popularity,
which there are those who will readily recall in
association with the lines, —

" There is rest for the weary,

There is rest for the weary,

There is rest for the weary,

And we'll rest there too :

THE METHODIST.

227

On the other side of Jordan,
In the sweet fields of Eden,
Where the tree of life is blooming,
And we'll rest there too."

Others there are which are almost lost, lingering
only in the recollection of the few here and there
of a fast-wasting generation who, as children, sat
and in still wonder listened and learned, as, at the
gatherings in the groves, their fathers and mothers
sang them long ago, — like this, caught one day,
and made a note of, as it fell quaveringly from the
lips — not reluctant to gratify a curious hearer — of
one of their number:

Ye sis-ters in the Lord, Come rise and go with me, And

i*E??=r3

leave this sin - ful world, And " all things be - low

£±==i=gL^__

^

Come learn to watch and pray, As ye journey on the way, And you'll

I I

X k P -p f p 1

BE =^=9= 3!

soon climb the banks of Cal va ry.

This hymn was particularly designed for the altar,
or " Glory Pen," and could be continued ad libi-

228 BLACK-ROBES.

tit in by the simple substitution of "brothers," or
"fathers," or "mothers," or what not, for "sisters"
in the first line. While it was being sung, the custom
was for the preachers and leaders to move freely
about within the inclosure, exchanging greetings
among themselves and shaking hands with the
"mourners."

The music, that is the own peculiar music of
the Methodist, was always spirited. Sentiment was
not fastidious as to its style of conveyance, save in
this respect only, — it never chose a slow coach.
Grave or light, sombre or joyous, the airy-paced
vehicle was the one for its burden. The " minor"
airs in use to a limited extent, such as the one
usually sung to "When I can read my title clear,"
with the accompanying chorus of " Oh, the Lamb,
the loving Lamb, the Lamb of Calvary," etc.,
formed no exception to the rule. Expression de
pended upon degrees of intensity — the piano and
the forte — rather than upon variety in mode, for
effect. The worshiping assembly was a great
organ, as it were, many-piped, yet with but one
stop, — the swell besides, and the bellows. Never
theless the instrument was capable of wonderful
diversity in its emotional range and force. Who
ever may have had the opportunity of hearing,
long ago, the famous old revival hymn, will well
remember with what a dread-inspiring power the
opening verse (and others succeeding of like dole
ful tenor) fell upon his ears:

THE METHODIST. 229

" Oh, there will be mourning, mourning, mourning, mourning,
Oh, there will be mourning at the judgment-seat of Christ!
Brothers and sisters there will part, [twice repeated,]
Will part to meet no more !"

and how sudden and complete, — how thrilling
and rapturous, the changed experience, as the
chorus of voices, true still to time and tune, but
bursting into a tone of vehement intensity like that
which gives noise to the huzza, of an army at the
moment of victory, rung to the significance of the
closing stanza:

"Oh, there will be shouting, shouting, shouting, shouting,
Oh, there will be shouting at the judgment-seat of Christ!
Saints and angels there will meet, [repeated as before,]
Will meet to part no m re !"

The closing refrain of one or another of the
hymns of this class brought the worship to an end.
The preacher arose in his place, lifted his hands,
pronounced the benediction, and his duties were
done. Soberly the people deserted their seats, and
calmly, as though the storm through which they
were just passed had never been, withdrew from
the house and retired to their homes.

20

230 BLACK-ROBES.

IV.
IN THE SADDLE AND ON THE CIRCUIT.

Methodist Black-Robe had his local fields
X of labor, but the sphere more peculiarly pro
fessional to him was of wider embrace, reaching
in grand range over miles of territory, from station
to station in which he journeyed, making his stages
and his stoppages according to schedule previously
timed, and completing the round in a month or
months, to resume and pursue it over and over
again as often as was practicable during the term
of his appointment. The newer circuits — those
extending into the thinly populated districts of
the remoter frontier, where the preacher ran the
risk of passing a night once in awhile without the
shelter of a roof — constituted the " Missionary"
ground of the church. Ample arrangements were
made, in such a case, for the comfortable protection
of the "itinerant" against the roughnesses and pri
vations to which he might be exposed by the way.
Besides the Arab steed for his own riding, of which
he wa£ justly proud, he started out provided with
a pack-horse to carry the few stores that were
needed for his frugal sustenance, at such times as
he might be compelled to camp it and do his own
cooking on the route. These stores consisted of

THE METHODIST. 231

ground coffee, parched corn run through a mill
and mixed with sugar, beef-tongues, cold meats,
and sea-biscuits; a coffee-pot, britannia tumblers
and spoons, steel knives, wooden forks, and, to
complete the whole, a water-proof linen tent, large
enough, if necessary, to accommodate nine men
conveniently. But the missionary had counted
the cost of his office before assuming its responsi
bilities, so that, although he may have had reason
to groan under crosses, to lament over hard lodg
ing, and to complain of picnic provender, yet did
he find grace sufficient to meet each tribulation as
it came, and bravely to worry it through.

Once he was under the necessity of spending a
night in the log cabin of a backwoodsman on the
far border. His experience on the occasion is cir
cumstantially sketched, by his own hand, in illus
tration of the dire extremities to which the pioneer
preachers were driven, now and then, in the prose
cution of their work. There was no floor in the
house, the bare ground, leveled off and smoothed
down, being made to answer instead. Hickory
poles were laid across at the angles of the -roof
where it rested upon the walls, to serve as joists,
which with an over-spread of clapboards formed
the upper floor. The house had neither bedstead,
chair, nor table. To supply the want of the first-
mentioned article of furniture, for his own and his
wife's accommodation, forked sticks had bee:i
driven into the ground at one corner of the cabin

232 BLACK-ROBES.

as supports for poles, across which clapboards
were laid, and these "covered with some bedding,
such as it was." The little negro boy of the estab
lishment slept, wrapt in a deer-skin, on the ground.
So did the missionary, between two blankets, with
his saddle-bags for a pillow. "Surrounded by
these gloomy circumstances," he "felt rather mel
ancholy," and his mind began to run back to
former days of "ease and plenty" (he had been
raised, according to a previous chapter of his auto
biography, in a "log cabin," with "no floor" to it,
and the "wolves howling around it at night"); but
when he thought within himself that he was better
off than his Saviour was, for He "had not where
to lay his head," he became more contented, and
had a tolerably comfortable night of it. He made
his breakfast, on a board bench, of corn-bread and
milk, — no spoons. One can scarcely refrain from
wondering, with some view as to whom the sym
pathy should apply, if so miserable was the ex
perience to the preacher for a night, what must it
have been to the parishioner as the habit, without
change or relief, of his life ?

In his more customary ridings, however, the
itinerant was not liable to risks of inconvenience,
nor under the necessity of providing against the
contingencies of a ground-floor, corn-bread and
milk, and — no spoons. A pair of saddle-bags,
packed with his little all requisite of linen and
library, was his only equipage. Good houses,

THE METHODIST.

233

public and private, were not so few or far between
along the way but that the hospitalities of one or
the other could be claimed, at noontide for dinner,
or for bed and board, wherever overtaken by its
approach, at night. Householder and hostler, saint
and son of Belial, with the courtesy characteristic
of all classes alike, received him at his coming,
and civilly entertained him; even the publican
rarely demanding, and less often receiving, a fee
for the accommodation. The attention which was
at first viewed rather in the light of a charity by
the host, soon came to be regarded as a due by
the customer, who, in the end, established a habit
of claiming what he desired with an independence
that was imposing to behold. Was not the laborer
worthy of his hire ?

And it was paid liberally. In the private estab
lishment its choicest resources were offered for
his distinguished delectation. Closet and pantry
were distrained of their rarest delicacies, and the
poultry-yard of its fattest broodlings, to furnish
a palatable variety for his table. The air and
the exercise of the road wefe favorable to diges
tion; they stimulated healthily the inner man of
the reverend traveler, and bred an appetite the
consumptive capacity of which got to be so gen
erally understood and appreciated as to become
proverbial. He relished a turkey, and yet objected
to it (or his own people have persistently slandered
him) that while it was, perhaps, a little too much,
20*

234 BLACK-ROBES.

as a rqast, for one, it was certainly not enough for
two. At the inn, where discrimination among
guests, eating unavoidably at the same board, could
not well be made, he had to forego the privilege
of preferred meats, and fare like the rest of its
patrons; but a "square meal" could always be de
pended upon ; for there was no stint of provision
ever to complain of as tables stood among the
taverns of those times.

His personal wants having been satisfied, the
foremost business afterwards of the Black-Robe
was to make the accident of his presence an agree
able and professionally profitable one to his enter
tainer. Perhaps his host of the private lodge was
a hunter, the warm side of whose heart he intui
tively knew was to be approached through his
rifle, like the Arkansas squatter's, of legendary
renown, through his fiddle. To prove his skill at
the craft, he would propose a mark and a crack at
a hundred yards, beat the woodman, of course,
over and over again, and then, commending the
gun and complimenting the owner, would follow
up the last fire with a few practical observations on
the subject of religion. If the hunter's sound con
version did not occur on the spot, another round
of shot, had next " riding" of the circuit, was never
known to fail.

Nor did he any the less dutifully neglect his
mission at the tavern. Whatever the chances or
the circumstances attending his stay, in season or

THE METHODIST.

235

out of season, he would find, or make, an oppor
tunity for discovering himself in his ministerial
character. Probably, on entering the house of an
evening, he would find the young people of the
neighborhood assembled, a fiddler at play, and
couples arranging themselves for a dance. A
"beautiful, ruddy young lady" would walk very
gracefully up to him, dropping a handsome cour
tesy, and pleasantly, with winning smiles, invite
him out to the floor. He would rise "as gracefully
as he could," move to the beautiful lady's left side,
and grasp her right hand with his, while with her left
wrist she would lean on his arm. In this manner
they would walk to their position. The whole
company would seem pleased "at this act of polite
ness in the beautiful young lady shown to the
stranger." The negro fiddler would begin to put
his fiddle in the best order. The preacher would
then tell the fiddler to hold a minute, and would
go on to say that for several years he had not under
taken any matter of importance without first asking
the blessing of God upon it, and he now desired to
ask the blessing of God on the beautiful young
lady and the company who had shown so much
politeness to a stranger. Here he would grasp the
beautiful young lady's hand and say, "Let us all
kneel down and pray;" and then instantly drop
on his knees and commence praying with all the
power of "soul and body" that he could command.
The beautiful young lady would try to get loose

236 BLACK-ROBES.

from him, but he would hold her tight. The
company would look curious. The fiddler would
run for the kitchen, exclaiming, " Lord a marcy,
what de matter? What dat mean?" The prayer
would be followed by singing, the singing by ex
hortation, and the whole, kept up for hours, would
result in the " powerful conversion" of the beautiful
young lady and fourteen others, — all before break
fast-time next morning.

But the circuit-rider did not confine himself to
occasional opportunities, such as these, for doing
good. Indeed, they were merely incidental to the
main business; sowing seed by the wayside, as it
were, on the tramp between fields surveyed and
located for particular tilling. His regular stations
were chosen at convenient intervals along the
route, ordinarily an easy day's journey apart, so
that not unfrequently every evening of the week
had its appointment for preaching. He was not
particular in his choice of accommodation for this
purpose. The best that offered was thankfully
taken and put to use, — private dwellings, bar
rooms, tavern-porches, court-houses, barns, sheds,
wagons even, and as a yet other alternative, the
woods out-of-doors; any spot, anywhere; for the
Black-Robe felt that when duty called he must
obey at all hazards. "As the gospel was to be
preached to every creature, his mission extended
to every place this side of hell." Happily for the
cause, Providence so ordered it that the least hos-

THE METHODIST. 237

pitable shift should prove the most desirable.
Under the trees became the favorite assembly-
room. The people were attracted to it at first
by the novelty of the thing; then because of the
excellent adaptation, as they soon found, of the
forest, with its grand appointments, — its arches
and columns, its naves and transepts, and its dim
religious light, so impressive of effect, — for a sanc
tuary. True, the choice might seem to imply that
the prejudice was not well founded which, with the
ceremonies of the Catholic Church, had led the dis
senter to abjure its cathedrals, and to reckon respect
for the Beautiful as among the deadly heresies; but
one was the handicraft of the Master Architect, —
the other was apprentice-work; the original, as of
God, might be admirable, but did it follow that
the imitation, of carnal device, was not damnable?

As these open-air gatherings were seen to be
popular ; as hearers in still multiplying numbers
continued to flock in, and as sinners began to show
lively signs of awakening, it was thought expedient,
the better to afford space for conversion to work its
perfect work, that the meetings should be protracted
beyond the limit of a single night. Hence arose
that institution peculiar to the sect and to the sec
tion, —the CAMP-MEETING.

This spiritual saturnalia, occurring statedly and
running through a week or a fortnight, was called
(in its grand annual observance, for it also had its
" quarterly") late in the summer-time, or early in

238 BLACK-ROBES.

the autumn, after the harvests had been gathered
and before the setting-in of seed-time, the season
for out-of-doors at this period being propitious,
and the agricultural population then enjoying their
chief term of leisure. For the scene of its orgies,
a space large enough for the purpose was selected
from some romantic nook of woods, thinned, if
necessary, of its trees and cleared of whatever
debris might encumber the ground. Around this
area the believers pitched their tents, — of canvas
it might be or of bark, or having their wagons
backed into place in lieu of either, the whole some
times fenced about with a barricade of bushes, to
keep out the allies of their adversary the devil.
At each corner of the inclosure a sort of rude altar
built of logs, unless the large stump of a tree might
be had as a substitute, was erected, upon which
fires were kindled to illumine the darkness and
keep off the mosquitoes. Lamps also were hung
out at the tent-fronts and suspended from the
branches of the trees. A platform was built at one
side of the area, with a plank placed bench-high
along its rear for a seat, and another elevated at
the front, designed to serve as a breastwork for the
preacher and a place of deposit for his " library."
Under the platform a plot of ground was railed in
for the exclusive use of mourners, and was known
as the Altar, or Glory Pen. Back of this, seats —
boards, that is, resting at either end on billets of
wood or stones — were ranged for the accommoda-

THE METHODIST.

239

lion of all who chose to occupy them during ser
vice. Rules for the preservation of order in the
camp were posted up conspicuously in the imme
diate neighborhood, as well as on the fences and
trees along the different roads leading to the
ground, in case of a violation of which the execu
tive committee was never wanting — the Black-
Robe himself its most efficient member — to see to
the sufficient chastisement of the aggressor.

Outside the tents the woods were filled round
and about, wherever vacant space could be found,
with wagons, carts, bales of hay, broken boxes,
and other promiscuous litter, only room enough
being reserved besides — not taking into account
the ways opened, and with diligent care kept
open, for access to, and egress from, the camp — for
the accommodation of the horses of attendants ;
with here and there, in by-places, a booth, a bar
between two trees; and a bush-tent. The border-
man had his ruling passions: he loved his liquor;
he was choice in his breed of colts, and — alas ! men
are weak, and women are willing, and both will
err, in the bush as well as on Broadway. Within
this precinct, of purer promise surely, the vender
of beverages had fixed his place, and whisky
was dispensed to those that thirsted among the
congregation, freely and openly: here, too, was
quartered the proprietor — with his property — of
that elegant, full-blooded, eight-year-old Arabian,
whose portrait and pedigree, in printer's ink, con-

240 BLA CK-R OBES.

fronted the gaze on every walk and at every turn,
publicly placarded on the same oak or hickory,
likely, with the Rules of the Meeting, and whose
rampant self, jauntily bedecked with ribbons and
rosettes, and tightly postured with belt and bridle,
was daily led out before interested groups of be
holders, for parade, and other purposes ; and here
the unreclaimed Magdalen made her haunt, in
the twilight, and in the evening, and in the black
and dark night, mingling among the strollers of
the hour, displaying her charms, and with fair
speech and flattering lips tempting whom she
might, and, under the very nose of the executive
committee, leading her captive down to the cham
ber of death.

Meetings in the camp were held morning, after
noon, and night, to which the people were sum
moned with the blowing of a trumpet, or rather
of a tin horn. The daylight sessions were, com
paratively speaking, tame affairs. Grace, as it was
found among the tents, did not seem to flourish in
the sun. Like the sorrowful tree or the Indian
isle, it bloomed only in the night, too delicate and
phantomy to abide the test of a more searching
exposure. The opening exercises were undemon
strative. With the advancing hour interest height
ened — the fervors of devotion, like the glow of the
fireflies, showing brighter and brighter as thick
ened the dark — until, night fairly set in, illumination
was at its height and enthusiasm at its liveliest

THE METHODIST. 241

To hasten this moment of blissful realization was
the foremost aim, always, of the exhorter. His
plans (for he had his plans) were all laid with a view
to it.

" Brother," he would say, aside, to his assisting
preacher, " have you any faith ?"

" Some," the assistant would respond.

" And so have I ; a little. Now, I am to preach
first. If I strike fire, I will immediately call for
mourners, and you must go in and exhort in every
direction, and I will manage the altar. But if I
fail to strike fire, you must preach; and if you strike
fire, call the mourners and manage the altar. I
meanwhile will go through the congregation and
exhort with all the power God gives me."

Doing his part in carrying out the scheme, the
first brother (who doesn't relate the circumstance)
might fall short, except perhaps in producing a
few promising sparks, but the second (who tells
the story) is more successful, — strikes fire that
catches, flames, blazes, spreads, and wraps the
camp in a general conflagration. His eloquence
is irresistible. Careless hearers become attentive
and concerned ; sinners, conscience-smitten, grow
pale and tremulous with terror ; sons of Belial fall
to the ground in an agony of awakening ; and even
the Baptists, who would seem to be the most in
corrigible among the unrighteous, are startled by
conviction, and begin to cry out, " Oh, pray for us,
or we are lost and damned forever !"

21

242 BLACK-ROBES.

The work, once under headway, advances with
astonishing progress. If the spiritual frame were
liable to like infirmities with the physical, the in
ference would seem natural and reasonable that
some colicky distemper of soul had suddenly
broken out, racking the patient with ache and
pang and spasm, and that, after all, the conclu
sions of Wangomen the Delaware were not wholly
whimsical, nor jalap and ipecac to be despised as
a physic for the disorder. Men — steady veterans
of the border, who had wrestled with bears in their
day, and could have bearded lions in their dens
without an emotion — are seized with the weakness
and quake and quail under its influence. Example
breeds example : victim after victim is attacked,
and the distemper becomes general and rages un-
controlledly. Bodies writhe and strive as in the
throes of convulsion ; arms fling wildly in the air;
down on his knees the infected subject falls in
attitude of prayer, his head forced back upon its
column of support, until the tight cordage of the
neck seems ready to crack under the strain; faces,
picturing, in sharp relief, each one its own pecu
liar presentment of the passion at play within, look
fixedly up and staringly, through dry, hot, blood
shot eyes, towards heaven ; hair, tossed and tangled,
stands all affright on end, or, broken loose from its
folds, on the part of the women, streams in dishev
eled tresses to the earth, and is trampled, trailing
in the dust, under feet of the shifting multitude.

THE METHODIST. 243

Convicts foam at the mouth, gnash their teeth, and
gasp like drowning or dying ones for breath ; or
with less frenzied demonstration, swaying their
bodies to and fro the while, now wring their hands,
now clap them, — clap them with a will, the sharp
concussion producing reports like pistol-shots.
Sighs and sobs distress the air. Groanings and
meanings, wails, and shrieks, and howls, and
shouts of anguish, fear, despair, exultation, burst
ing full vent from a hundred — a thousand — thrice
a thousand throats, rise, and rolling in tumultuous
tide, away and away, flood the solitudes with a
torrent of uproar. The horses at their troughs in
the woods pause over their oats, and, pricking their
ears, stand still-bound in listening wonder; the
trader in Bourbon, confounded, suspends his traffic;
while they of the Scarlet Letter, the fair unfortunate,
shuddering as they hear, to shun the notice which
they just now courted, steal shrinkingly aside and
hide them in the dark.

Meanwhile the preacher, having wrought his
material up to the proper pitch of frenzy, changes
his base of operations from the pulpit to the Glory
Pen, crowded now to its utmost capacity with
seekers and mourners. He is still in the fire
works line, but, instead of throwing his matches
promiscuously at the heads of hearers, as from his
former position, he singles out his subjects and
applies to each one separately his own particular
lucifer. There is a distiller of the name of H .

BLA CK-R OSES.

say, in the crowd, — a green-timbered fellow, coarse
in the fibre and full of the sap of sin, whom he
takes hold of. He is an uninflammable customer,
hard to heat, but finally warms by friction, ignites,
and is brought under in a blaze of blue light.
The exhorter announces the victory with a shout,
" Glory to God ! H - is down ! H - is down !
Glory to God!" A Frenchman who had fought
under Napoleon, next operated upon, perhaps, takes
spark more promptly, and exclaiming, as he surren
ders, true to his soldierly training, " Vive £ Empereur
Jesus!" is off like a rocket, — " a case of conversion
so clear and powerful that infidelity itself is abashed
and confounded." A practical joker of the Belial
family, who has come with a batch of frogs strung
together to slip over the head of the exhorter while
stooping and praying for the mourners, is then en
countered, maybe ; finds to his astonishment that
he is made a Chinese cracker of, and explodes
ere well aware of it, while waiting an opportunity
for his proposed diversion. Among the women
success is easier than with the men, and more cer
tain : they seldom miss fire, but* kindling readily,
flare up and go off gloriously, coruscating in well-
sustained style, like Roman candles. It is a sin
gular circumstance, which lookers-on are not slow
to notice, that the cases calling for much the
greater share of attention are from among the
ladies ; that the handsomest girls are always the
wickedest ; have to be approached the nearest ;

THE METHODIST. 24$

need the closest exhorting ; must be entreated the
most lovingly, and are the most apt to give way
physically; to faint — and to fall as seems inevitable
generally, except as the ministerial arm with
round embrace interposes to prevent the catas
trophe; Bishop Asbury expresses his fear some
where " that the women and the devil will get all
his preachers."

When not engaged in what may be styled con
fidential conferences, or private ministries exer
cised in exclusive behalf of individuals, the preacher
moves about, picking a passage with careful steps,
among the mourners, and casts his exhortations,
as he goes, in sententious discharges, right and
left among them. "Don't be composed," he says
to one of the kneelers, who scarcely seems to need
the admonition, — " don't be composed, but pray on,
brother; pray on; there's no composure in hell or
damnation." Another is blandly smiled upon, and
encouraged with gratifying assurances that he is
clearly on the highway to glory, the convincing evi
dence of which is, that bobbing up and down on his
knees, and going through the motions of washing his
hands in the air, he gives shout to the original, ex
pressive, and highly devotional sentiment of " Hell !
hell ! hell ! hell !" The " fine, beautiful " daughter
of a father almost irredeemably lost, as she is
taught to believe, in Presbyterianism, is assured,
when she affectionately suggests him as a subject
of exhortation, that his case, though critical in the
21*

246 BLA CK-R OBES.

extreme, is not absolutely hopeless, — the vilest Cal-
vinist may return : " Pray on," he says, " and the
work will be done. It is not the old big devil that
is in your father, but a little, weakly, sickly devil,
and it won't be a hard job to cast him out. If God
takes hold of your father and shakes him over hell
a little while, and he smells brimstone right strong,
if there was a ship-load of these little, sickly devils
in him, they would be driven out just as easy as
a tornado would drive a regiment of mosquitoes
from a stagnant pond." "Sister," he inquires, cheer
fully, of a young woman, "have you found your
ransom yet ?" The sister is surprised to learn that
her engagement with Mr. Ransom, which she had
supposed to be entirely a secret between that gen
tleman and herself, is known to the itinerant, but
does not deny the situation, and blushingly re
sponds that she is looking for him back next

Friday evening. " And Brother G ," he goes

on to query of a next " exercised" subject, " how
do you feel in the spirit to-night ?" "Bully!" says

Brother G .

To heat the blood of his subjects up to the grace-
enabling mark — 173° of the spiritual Fahrenheit
— was what the profane would call the "dodge"
always of the exhorter. He seemed to act upon the
presumption that souls feverishly sin -sick must
be made Mightily worse before there was any
hope of their growing better; like the physician
who made it his standing rule of practice, in all

THE METHODIST.

247

cases, to first throw his patients into convulsions :
there he had them where he wanted them exactly,
for that was his specialty, — he was " * * * * on fits."

Midnight usually brought the performances to
an end. The last hymn was sung, the last prayer
said ; the multitudinous noise of worship rolling off
in one stormy, final discharge, swept in fast-bearing
reverberations afar, lessening as it sped, fainting,
fading, dying, — dead in the distance; quiet ruled in
the camp, save as disturbed by the occasional burst
of a sob, or groan, or shout of " Glory !" from some
not entirely-subsided enthusiast; lights were extin
guished ; worshipers retired to their tents. The
curtain had dropped on the closing scene, and the
drama was ended.

Journeying thus from post to post, the itinerant
pursued his mission, erecting new stations, plant
ing new societies, creating new classes, and en
larging generally the borders of the Methodist
Zion. Repeated riding of his circuit made its
course a familiar one. His own presence, and that
of his horse, became accustomed ones to the peo
ple. He formed acquaintance with man, woman,
and child at every cabin. He won upon their con
fidence by conforming to their ways and partici
pating in their social usages, — ready ever for any
reasonable frolic : to take a hand at a husking, lend
a lift at a raising, be about at a log-rolling, stir his
turn at an apple-butter boiling, or handle a cleaver
at sausage-chopping on a butchering-day. Nor

248 BLACK-ROBES.

would he frown upon the harmless enjoyments of
the young men and maidens at their festivities of
a winter evening ; as, indeed, why should he ? for
"Peeling the willow" was not proscribed by the
Book of Discipline, nor promiscuous kissing in
" Come, Philander, let's be marching," nor " hold
ing" in "Tired of my company," nor "bundling"
as an institution by itself. By secular conformities
and indulgences such as these, the preacher estab
lished himself in the popular liking. For patron
age bestowed, he enjoyed it, reciprocally, at his
own soirees ; and improved it, — with what result,
arithmetically considered, was made largely to
figure on the records of the next annual conference,
where it stands yet in authentic confirmation of
the marvelous doings of those Pentecostal days.

V.

THE CANE-RIDGE REVIVAL.

/"^AMP-MEETINGS had their origin, as de-
* — ' scribed, in the year 1800. The first experi
ments met with such extraordinary success that
they were rapidly followed up by others, and with
a continually growing patronage, so that attend
ants, counted in the beginning by scores, multiplied

METHODIST.

249

into fifties, from fifties increased into hundreds, and
presently were reckoned by thousands. The first
of the more imposing series that figure so promi
nently on the autobiographical page, happened at
Cabin Creek, Kentucky, in the spring of 1801.
This was succeeded, with brief intervals of time
and accommodating ones of distance, by others at
Concord, Point Pleasant, and Indian Creek. But
the illustrious one, where occurred the famous
Cumberland Revival, and which the few, the very
few gray-bearded fathers still living who were wit
nesses of it, always refer to with proudest satisfac
tion, took place in August, and was held at Cane
Ridge.

The Rev. Robert W. Finley, a Presbyterian
minister originally from Pennsylvania, had re
moved to Kentucky, and, in 1790, fixed his resi
dence in Bourbon County, where, clearing a spot
out of the canebrakes, which grew all over the
broad acres there for miles, he built a log cabin,
opened a farm, and erected a church. The scene
of the great revival in question lay within the lines
of his parish. The miraculous manifestations, as
they were regarded, of the divine presence at the
previous meetings, had long been the topic of talk
abroad, and the settlers, all on the tiptoe of ex
pectation, were ready to take advantage of the
leisure which the season offered, attend at the ap
pointed place, and put to the proof of their own
eyes' witness the marvels of which they had been

250

BLACK-ROBES.

told. Multitudes that might not be numbered
began to assemble. From the remotest corners
of the border, thirty, forty, fifty miles away, they
gathered in. All day long, and through the night,
crowds were to be seen pressing eagerly, earnestly
on, their faces set Zionward, in wagons, on sleds,
afoot, " upon norses, and in chariots, and in litters,
and upon mules, and upon swift beasts." Roads,
lanes, trails, all passable ways of approach, swarmed
with train following train of pilgrims; the tramp
of their progress uprooting the sod, which hoof
and wheel, till then, of customary travel had
scarcely scarred, and grinding the clodded surface
of the soil to powder. Whole communities, in
cluding not merely the men, women, and children,
but slaves and dogs even, gathered in compa
nies and joined the general procession, leaving
only an obliging neighbor, here and there, to keep
watch in the depopulated settlements during their
absence. When all were congregated, it is esti
mated that there were from twenty to twenty-
five thousand people on the ground. The usual
accommodations in the way of huts and tents
were erected on the premises, together with a
large shed capable of affording shelter, in case
of unfavorable weather, to five thousand persons.
Shanties were constructed for use of such as chose
to turn an honest penny by offering entertainment,
at so much a head, to casual visitors; and booths
"for them that sold doves," each with its counter

THE METHODIST.

251

or table, knocked rudely but substantially together,
of boards, whereupon were arranged platters,
spoons, knives and forks, unctuous from much
handling, and supply-dishes, which, replenished
whenever emptied with steaming meats and vege
tables, proved temptingly provocative of appetite,
and seldom grew cold for want of consumers.

Outside the sanctum of the encampment, but
closely crowding on it, were pitched the tents of
the unbelievers — a promiscuous class — consisting
largely of horse-thieves, gamblers, blasphemers,
drunkards, adulterers, and "partakers in all manner
of wickedness." Associated with the vicious and
lawless, but not, as yet, utterly contaminated by
the contact, were to be found the classes addicted
to simply mischievous exploits, and technically
known as the careless, — " men of awful depravity,
that would sport while the very fires of perdition
were kindling around them." A favorite amuse
ment with these sons of Belial was to play prac
tical jokes on the preachers and mourners. They
were also given to cropping the manes and shaving
the tails of horses ; to tarring the seats and taking
linchpins out of wagons; to detaching girths from
saddles, and pilfering halters, whips, and bridles.

Of such huge and heterogeneous composition
as was the meeting, — without power, and, indeed,
without the disposition, to enforce order; where
rather, on the contrary, lawlessness seemed to be
the accepted law of the hour, — it is in no wise sur-

252

BLACK-ROBES.

prising that "nothing was exhibited to the specta
tor but a scene of confusion, such as scarcely could
be put into human language." As many as seven
preachers, out of some thirty or forty present,
were to be heard declaiming at the same time; one
posted on the platform, another mounted in a
wagon, others pulpited on stumps, and still others
perched on the trunks of fallen trees. The noise
of their eloquence "was like the roar of Niagara."
Sermon, or exhortation, prepared the way for
the more striking proceedings. At its close the
pent up enthusiasm of the audience began to
discharge. A universal cry for mercy arose. As
hearts were hopeful or despondent, their corre
sponding demonstrations followed. The terror-
stricken and despairing maddened the air with
ravings of anguish. Those whose eyes caught
glimpses of the dawn of redemption were in rap
tures of ecstasy. Every variety of emotion, in
every form of expression, found vent at the same
time. Sharply piercing up through the heavy
under-swell of sound that rolled and roared, and
without break or pause kept steadily surging on,
wild exclamations in horrible commingling were
to be heard, — shrieks of "hell! hell-fire! damna
tion!" blending with screams of "glory! glory to
God! hallelujah !" The people had come prepared
for the infection, expecting it, with their hearts
set on it, their nerves strung for it; and they
caught it readily. As with a battalion in a battle-

THE METHODIST.

253

field or a bevy of misses in a boarding-school but an
example is needed to bring about a general preva
lence of panic or hysterics, so a first outbreak of
disorder was all that was wanting — all that was
waited for — to involve the whole camp in derange
ment. Each following moment added fresh 'im
pulse and new variety to the excitement. Sinners
were arrested, — became wrestling Jacobs, — pre
vailed, and were happy, — all ere the echoes, order
by order, had well died away of the vociferations
which indicated the various stages of the proceed
ing. Penitents, passing at a step from darkness
into light, became "experienced." The exhorted
at one moment were the exhorters at the next,
flying to their unregenerate friends and entreating
them with powerful persuasion and tears of com
passion to fly to Christ for mercy. Some, under
conviction and impelled by terror, tore themselves
from the embraces of anxious relatives and strug
gled hard to escape from the ground. Others wept
and groaned, and piteously appealed to Heaven for
consolation; while others still fell to the earth and
swooned away, "till every appearance of life was
gone, and the extremities of the body assumed the
coldness of death."

A boy, ten years of age, who for some time had
stood as a listener near a platform occupied by
one of the declaimers, felt himself suddenly pos
sessed of "very strong impressions." Starting
from his place, he hurried a short distance apart,
22

254 BLACK-ROBES.

mounted a log, and, lifting up his voice in a most
affecting manner, began to prophesy before the
congregation. " On the last day of the feast," he
exclaimed, " Jesus stood and cried, If any man
thirst, let him come unto me and drink." The
people turned at the sound of his voice, and,
attracted by the novelty of the incident, gathered
in a great crowd about the juvenile orator. He
was evidently an acute observer, had watched the
arts of his clerical elders, and copied them well.
Amid profuse tears he directed his appeal to sin
ners ; pictured, in a professional way that indicated
a remarkable memory, the terrible destiny reserved
for the unrighteous, and then, by way of enticing
contrast, the golden rewards that awaited the
penitent in the Beautiful Land reserved for their
inheritance. His audience pressed closer and
closer about him, until soon his voice was smoth
ered and his person lost sight of amid the throng.
He. was on the point, apparently, of being com
pletely extinguished, when two strong men of the
inner circle, seizing him in their arms, lifted him up
above the heads of the rest, and held him there,
while for nearly an hour he exhorted " with that
convincing eloquence that could be inspired only
from heaven." When exhausted, at last, of strength
and of language, he took out his handkerchief,
and, letting it fall from his hand, brought his re
marks to a close by a happy practical application
of the device : " Thus, O sinner," said he, " will

THE METHODIST. 2$$

you drop into hell unless you forsake your sins
and turn to God !" With the descent of the hand
kerchief, descended the power of God upon the
assembly. Sinners fell as men slain in mighty
battle. Cries for mercy rent the heavens, "and
the work spread in a manner which human lan
guage cannot describe."

The falling feature was the striking one of the
Cane-Ridge meeting. It had been witnessed be
fore, but not, till then, to any remarkable extent.
The manifestations attending it were peculiar and
really surprising, although not unaccountable. The
subject, after having, under the stimulating influ
ence of the unaccustomed atmosphere of the camp,
been medicined up to a fitting state of susceptibility,
found himself, suddenly and without the slightest
premonition, beset with a nervous affection, the
action of which was, out of the order of all pre
cedent, capricious and uncontrollable. Certain
members of the body would cease in their office,
as though numbed by paralysis, while others, as
if to compensate for the delinquency, would run
into extravagant excesses of action. Legs would
fail and sink helplessly under their proper burden,
while arms would flourish wildly against the will
and with unnatural energy. Some among the
seized were struck dumb; others preserved control
of their voices, but used them in a very ridiculous
manner, laughing, barking like dogs, howling like
wolves, bellowing, bleating, and caterwauling; at

256 BLA CK-R OBES.

the same time leaping and dancing like dervishes
or rolling on the ground and wriggling like Obi-
men at a pow-wow. Frequently cases happened
where all the symptoms attending dissolution ap
peared. The pulse gradually faded, the breath
came and went in sobs and gasps, with longer and
longer intervals of suspended respiration, until it
ceased altogether, and the body lay as dead, still,
staring, and cold, for hours. While the catalepsy
lasted, the patient retained full possession of his con
sciousness, nor, through it all, was there (although
the authorities here are somewhat contradictory)
the slightest experience of physical discomfort.

The jerks, as the phenomenon got to be popu
larly called, were not confined to the camp-inclosure
exclusively, neither were their attacks limited to
seekers and mourners. The thoughtless and care
less among sinners outside were visited as well,
one and another being brought down "suddenly,
as if struck by lightning." Professed infidels and
scoffers were leveled, with the language of blas
phemy on their lips. Ladies were attacked at
breakfast over their toast and tea. Tossing their
cups and saucers to the ceiling, they would dash
from the table in great haste, " their long suits of
braided hair hanging down their backs at times
cracking like a whip." A converted dancing-
master, witnessing the behavior of the possessed,
declared that the devil was at the bottom of it,
and he was determined "to preach it out of the

THE METHODIST. 257

Methodist Church." He ran to a stand, took his
text, and tried it ; but, before fairly aware of it, his
subject got the better of him, and he was himself
helplessly under its influence. His tongue became
entangled in its thread of discourse. Falling into
a silly repetition of "Ah, yes! — Oh, no!" — terms
thrust irrelevantly into his harangue, and on which
he stumbled, — the jingle of the syllables, iterated
over and over again, became forcibly suggestive
of music and motion. Only the hint was needed
to call into action the old professional habit, and
the dancing-master, himself again, armed in ima
gination with the implements of his art, was in
stantly absorbed in the execution of a jig, fingers
and elbow furiously at play, while toe and heel
tapped, sounding time to the dumb performance,
on the bare boards of the floor. He had over
estimated his strength: still, vanquished, inglo-
riously vanquished as he was, "his proud heart
would not submit. He gave up the circuit and
retired, and his sun went down under a cloud."

A certain young man, "tall" and terrible, — an
Arba among the Anakim of the outer precinct, —
who sat mounted on a fine, large white horse,
forming one of a party of scoffers near by, being
instigated by the prime Planner of all Mischief, put
spurs to his steed, and, breaking from his comrades,
dashed at full gallop through the line of tents into
the inclosure and among the worshipers, uttering
horrible imprecations as he made the charge. Still
22*

258

BLACK-ROBES.

plunging on, he forced his way, until, coming
abreast of a kneeling band of seekers, his course
was arrested. The mysterious Agency of the Air,
the Angel of Conviction, waiting its opportunity,
had met it then and there: instantly, as though
an arrow sped from its bow had pierced his heart,
the reins dropped from his grasp, he reeled in his
saddle, and tumbled lifeless to the ground; the
religious multitude testifying their exultation at
the coup de grace in bursts of applause addressed
to the Deity, and with songs of praise and shouts
of hallelujah! For thirty hours the young man
lay apparently dead. Symptoms of returning
animation then began to appear, rapidly eventu
ating, through a series of convulsions attended by
fearful groans, in complete recovery. But that
was not all. His newly -aroused self was no
longer the Heaven-defiant self of the past. Out
of that Lethean sleep he awoke a new being.
" The fiendlike scowl that had overspread his
features gave way to a happy smile, and, springing
to his feet, the accents of anguish were changed
into the loud and joyous shouts of praise."

One Dr. P. and an interesting young lady of
Lexington, both " inexperienced," visited the camp
from motives of curiosity, mutually agreeing before
hand that, if either of. them should happen to be
jerked, the other would stand by and have a care
over the victim until he or she, as the case might
be, recovered from the attack. The lady, in all

THE METHODIST. 259

her pride, as the narrative relates, was soon pros
trated. The physician laid his finger on her wrist,
found her pulse gone, became agitated, turned
pale, and, staggering a step or two, sunk down,
inanimate as she, in the dust beside her. After
remaining for some time in this state, they both
obtained pardon and peace, and went home re
joicing. Persons were seized on the road going
to, and returning from, the camp; at taverns where
they halted as they went, frequently in the act of
taking the favorite tonic of the day, at the bar, by
way of prevention; at their plows in the field, at
their drudgeries in the kitchen, and at their family
and closet devotions. Sinners wondered at it,
affected to laugh at it, feared it, were fascinated by
it, flocked to the scene — the central scene — of its
operations, and straightway were down under the
invisible stroke of its dealing. Like bullocks under
blow of the axe in a slaughter-pen when execu
tioners are busiest in packing-time, they dropped,
— hundreds upon hundreds, nay, thousands, falling
of a night. Intense excitement, accompanied with
fearful forebodings of calamity, prevailed among
the people. Many thought, with the dancing-
master, that Satan with his imps had been let
loose, and suffered, for a purpose, to enter into the
hearts of men, as they were of old into the swine,
what time the herd ran violently down a steep
place into the sea and perished in the waters.
Some imagined that because the land abounded in

26o BLACK-ROBES.

wickedness, a visitation of divine judgment was
decreed against the nation ; while others, filled
with alarm, supposed that the Day of Wrath was
at hand, and that the elements were about to melt
with fervent heat, and the earth to be consumed.

To quiet the apprehensions of the timid and to
silence the misgivings of the skeptical, certain of
the wise among the churchmen applied themselves
to the task of a rational solution of the mystery.
The work was satisfactorily achieved; the nar
rative of it, as historically transmitted to posterity,
running substantially thus : —

It is well known that the Baptists embrace in
their communion a large proportion of the popu
lation of Kentucky, and that they rigidly adhere
to the doctrines of unconditional election and
reprobation, as well as to the pernicious heresy
of the final and unconditional perseverance of the
saints. It is equally well kr^own that the same
mischievous dogmas are held and taught by the
Presbyterians. Indeed, so generally have these
errors been preached by these denominations
that no one entertaining genuine scriptural views
has heretofore been found fearless and independ
ent enough to call them in question. The con
sequence is that they have taken deeper and
deeper root, and continued to spread, until it may
be said that the doctrines of Calvin have filled the
whole country. Under the prevalence of such
teachings, supported as they are by polemical

THE METHODIST. 26 1

divines, whose religion consists almost entirely in
a most dogged and pertinacious adherence to the
creeds and confessions of faith handed down from
orthodox Puritan fathers, it is not surprising that
professors of religion have fallen insensibly into
Antinomianisrn. The inconsistencies of Calvin
have become the subject of the sarcastic sneers of
infidels, and the inability of his followers to recon
cile their doctrines "with the justice of God and
the present order of things " is making fearful
inroads on the faith, and strengthening the hands
of the wicked. The friends of the truth have been
few, comparatively uninfluential, and exposed to
much persecution. At this juncture it has pleased
the Lord to look down upon the people of this
Western country. Man's extremity is God's
opportunity, and these wonderful manifestations
which are witnessed are assuredly of Heaven,
given in evidence, so startling as not to be mis
taken, that the Almighty means to sweep away
Baptist-ism, and Presbyterianism, and every other
refuge of lies ; to confound infidelity and vice,
" and bring numbers beyond calculation under the
influence of experimental religion and practical
piety."

No exact record of the saving results of the
Cane-Ridge meeting has been preserved ; but if an
estimate may be inferred from the statement of one
of the chroniclers, that he saw as many as "at
least five hundred swept down in a moment," the

262 BLA CK-R OSES.

cases of conversion must have been exceedingly
numerous. But the revival bore other fruits, which
were more decided in character, more lasting, and
much less gratifying. While the orthodox laborers
were planting the seed, and from the budding pros
pects of the field were rejoicing in the hope of an
abundant harvest, the enemy came in and began to
sow tares broadcast among the grain. Gross errors
and heresies sprang up and spread among the
faithful. The belief fundamental to Methodism,
that Heaven made choice of its gospelers by special
election, and that the gift of preaching came by in
spiration, — that its exhorters, in other words, like
the anointed of old, were "holy men of God, who
spake as they were moved by the Holy Spirit," — was
one which was well calculated to tempt the enthu
siast, especially under extraordinary excitements,
widely and wildly astray. What were Books of Dis
cipline, what were creeds concocted at conferences
and promulgated by human authorities, to him, —
what would they have been to Isaiah, or to Paul, or
to Wesley, singled out, himself and all alike, as pro
phets of the Lord, — that the supremely illuminated
and impliedly infallible judgment of either should
be hemmed in by their limitations or embarrassed
by their restraints ? The result may be antici
pated. Old confessions were repudiated ; the Bible
was pronounced the only rule of faith ; each man
became his own interpreter, no two interpreting
alike ; and soon the region swarmed with saintly

THE METHODIST. 263

adventurers, who scoured the country, scattering
wide the brands of schism and making grievous
havoc among the churches.

Enticed by the example of half a dozen illiterate
Presbyterians who had been irregularly admitted
into the ministerial office, and who had likewise be
come tainted with the prevailing distemper, a party
of separatists, under the lead of James O'Kelly, a
disappointed candidate for a Methodist bishopric,
banded together, forming a society and designating
themselves as Neiv-LigJits, or Christians. Their
specialty was a creed denunciatory of creeds ; their
confession was a protest against confessions, and
their church an organized body formed to resist
organizations. They repudiated the doctrines of
the Trinity, of total depravity, and of the atone
ment. Governor Garrard, of Kentucky, fell into
the heresy, and made himself somewhat famous in
the composition of a tract on one of the topics —
that touching the question of Christ's divinity —
in controversy. Others of the sloughers-ofT at
tached themselves to the Quakers, a company of
whom from the State of New York had recently
planted a settlement in the region. Elder Holmes,
a sort of Peter the Hermit, conceived the notion
that the restoration was at hand, gathered around
him a group of followers, and started off for the
prairies in search of the Holy Land. For many
days he wandered about, reaching at last an island
in the Mississippi River, where, to the interruption

264 BLACK-ROBES.

of his enterprise and the sad disappointment of his
attendants, he sickened and died. Elder Farnum
became the founder of the model institution of the
Screaming Children ; and brother Abel Sargent,
the Halcyon Preacher and Millennial Messenger,
who lived on very intimate terms with the angels,
and received his dispatches statedly, like any other
foreign ambassador, from heaven, appeared as a
second Messiah, perambulating the wilderness
with his twelve disciples, — all women, — and pro
claiming his revelations. He denied that there
was a devil, a hell, or a future judgment. On a
" banter " of one of his apostles, he undertook a
forty days' fast, in imitation of the memorable one
in the Wilderness. He persevered in the experi
ment, actually abstaining all the while from food,
for sixteen days, when, still persisting, he died from
starvation. A certain zealot of the name of Kid-
well also began to prophesy, affirming that men
were never excluded from heaven because of crime;
that God would not retaliate wrong for wrong; that
expiation in the flesh follows for offenses of the
flesh, and that out of the body is neither sin nor
punishment, — the souls of all, awarded the one
destiny, sharing alike in the delights of Paradise.
The measure of success attending the labors of
these reformers has not been recorded.

The "Falling Exercise" continued for some time
to prevail as a " manifestation " in the churches, but
not with the " power and demonstration " that gave

THE METHODIST. 265

it its marked distinction on this occasion. The
cases of " arrest," however, as faith in its efficacy
as a converting instrumentality began to waver,
became fewer and fewer, ceasing eventually alto
gether. Near about the same time, indeed, it
broke out again, but in a different settlement of the
border then, and among the congregations of a dif
ferent people. As among Methodists, its epidemical
career was limited to the one season and the one
spot, — in its traditional association with which the
"Cane-Ridge" has become famous first among
camp-meetings, and the " Cumberland " of tower
ing renown among revivals.

VI.

MENTIONABLE MEN AMONG THE PREACHERS OF THE
BORDER.

WHEN the material is considered of which
the Methodist ministry in border-days was
composed, it could scarcely be expected that any
of the order should have attained to such a degree
of eminence as would challenge specially the notice
of after-times. Two hundred and eighty preachers,
through the first sixteen years' existence of the
church on the frontier, constituted the clerical
23

266 BLACK-ROBES.

(itinerant) force of the service. They were all
uneducated, save in the simplest rudiments of com
mon-school learning ; or, as one of their number
who has written a book is pleased to express it,
" there was not a single literary man among them."
Minds gotten up after that sort of fashioning are
not of the stamp to make a mark that is likely to
prove permanently prominent.

But there were those who in their day and gen
eration had a distinction, and who in the circuits
over which they traveled were famous. Good
fighting-properties — and propensities — were re
spected in the church as well as out of it ; and the
Black-Robe who, boldly offering or accepting de
fiance, stood always ready, under provocation, to
whip or be whipped, was noted and petted among
believers quite as much as could have been Crib
or Molyneaux among bruisers. John Ray has an
honorable mention in history because of his " great
muscular power and natural courage," an illustra
tion of which has been particularly set forth in an
anecdote. Himself and a party of other itinerants
in the course of their journeying were approaching
a toll-gate which, near where the road branched,
had recently been moved from its position on one
of the forks to the main stem, in order to command
passage and control fare from travelers along both
routes, when the right of the keeper to demand
toll was called in question. John Ray disputed it
roundly, and declared that if the rest would agree

THE METHODIST. 267

he would carry them through without cost. One
of his companions expressed a desire to know how
he would do it. " I will ride up to the gate," said
he, " and command the keeper to open it." " But
suppose he declines ?" it was suggested. " Why,
I will break the gate down," said John Ray, " and
let him do his worst." To avoid the fray which
he knew must ensue, one of the more peaceably
disposed, who luckily happened to be the purse-
bearer of the party, trotted on in advance and
settled with the toll-man, although " there was a
great deal of clamoring behind him," and the
" company looked sour and showed some dissatis
faction." John was deprived of the opportunity
of showing his muscle on the occasion, but not of
demonstrating to the satisfaction of his fellow-itin
erants that he was entirely willing — in fact, that he
would be rather glad of a chance — to put it to the
proof.

Peter Cartwright stands high on the record as a
sharer in his honors with the redoubtable Ray :
hence was he fancifully known as the " Bull-dog "
among the saints, as well as among the sinners, of
his time. At a camp-meeting attended by a larger
number than usual of " rabble and rowdies," all
drunk', and armed with dirks, clubs, knives, and
horse-whips, two finely-dressed fellows marched
into the congregation with their hats on, and rose
up and stood in the midst of the ladies and began
to laugh and talk. They were ordered to desist,

268 BLA CK-R OSES.

but declined, couching their refusal in terms which
out of the pulpit were considered profane, if not
blasphemous. Peter immediately stepped down
from the platform, walked up to one of the in
vaders, dodged a blow from a loaded whip aimed
at his head, closed in on his man, and brought him
to the ground. A drunken magistrate interfered,
and ordered the reverend combatant to let his
prisoner loose or " he would knock him down."
Cartwright invited him, very coolly, to " crack
away." The officer took him at his word, and
aimed a blow which might have damaged his
profile, except that it was scientifically parried by
the preacher, who, taking advantage of the un
guarded instant, jumped in, and, seizing the coat-
collar of his antagonist with one hand and his hair
with the other, " fetched him a sudden jerk for
ward," floored him, and leaped on his prostrate
body. The ringleader of the rioters then stepped
forward and made three passes at Peter, who, ex
hibiting much skill, not only warded off the thrusts,
but, watching his chance, delivered a ri^ht-hander
fair "on the burr of the ear" in return, "which
dropped him to the earth." The friends of order then
rushing to the rescue, the mob was soon dispersed.
When the fight was ended, Cartwright resumed his
place at the sacred desk, and, taking for a text the
appropriate passage, " The gates of hell shall not
prevail," preached a sermon with such " power and
demonstration" that three hundred hearers fell like

THE METHODIST. 269

dead men in battle, and two hundred professed re
ligion and were added to the church.

To excel in the art lachrymose, or be able at
will to command the shedding of tears, was es
teemed a rare accomplishment. Ralph Lotspiech,
with no other possibly discoverable virtue to dis
tinguish him, was nevertheless a man of mark
because of his proficiency in this particular ; and
so, as the Weeping Prophet, — a Niobe in broad
cloth, — he has been calendared with the illustrious
and lives among the immortal of the period.

Miracles, not at all uncommon among Method
ists, were sometimes a means of celebrity. Brother
Joseph Dickson, a great hunter and trapper of the
border, having provided himself with the necessary
outfit, took passage in a " dug-out" and started off
on a voyage to the wild Indian country on the
Missouri. Two winters were spent in this remote
and unfriendly region. To protect himself against
the bitter cold of the climate, he made an excava
tion in a steep hill-side, where he managed to lodge
with tolerable comfort. The glare of the light from
the snow, however, affected his eyes to such an
extent that ultimately, towards the close of the
second winter, he became blind. Reduced to this
helpless and hopeless condition, and with death
apparently certain before him, he began to realize
how great a sinner, and how utterly unprepared
for the future, he was. He knelt and prayed, and
solemnly vowed to God that, if he were spared and

23*

2/0 BLA CK-R OBES.

delivered, his life should thenceforth be devoted to
His service. All of a sudden there was a strong
impression made on his mind that if he would
take the inside bark of a tree that grew near by his
cave, and beat it up soft and fine, soak it in water,
and apply it as a wash, his vision would be restored.
He tried the treatment at night, and awoke in the
morning to find the inflammation gone and his
eyes made whole again. He then " felt that God
had forgiven his sins, and that he ought to praise
and give glory to His name." As in further evi
dence of the special interposition of Providence
in his case, it is stated that, spring soon opening,
he had "astonishing good luck" at trapping, se
curing a great amount of the best furs, which he
afterwards sold in St. Louis for several thousand
dollars. He then returned home, " took preach
ing into his cabin," joined the church, became
a leader and steward, and acquired a renown at
once, particularly as a successful agent in the col
lection of funds for the support of the gospel.

Others, again, were famed as dreamers of drea r.s
and seers of visions; their power and scope of
clairvoyance scarcely up to the old prophetic
standard, perhaps, but among believers none the
less credible or creditable on that account. John
Stewart, the Mulatto of Marietta, to whom allu
sion has already been made, slept, and, sleeping,
dreamed that he was about to commence a reli
gious meeting. While seated, awaiting the hour

THE METHODIST. 271

appointed for the opening of service, an Indian
man and woman, "clothed in particular garments,"
entered the house "in a peculiar manner," saluted
him, shook hands with him, and "seemed to mani
fest peculiar earnestness and interest in regard
to his message," It was mysteriously made to
appear to John that they invited him "to go and
preach for their people," living somewhere, not
definitely set forth, " northwest of Marietta." The
dream impressed him powerfully. He tried to
argue the force of it away; but it clung to him
night and day. Doubting the call plunged him
into a state of mental misery ; the favorable con
sideration of it brought "great peace and joy of
mind." He retired to the woods and fields, day
after day, to pray, and at each visit regularly saw
the Indian and the squaw, always seeming to come
from the northwest and renewing their invitation
"to come and preach for them." The mental an
guish resulting from the difficulty of deciding the
question of duty so agitated his body that he was
thrown into a severe fit of sickness. When brought
to his bed, he finally resolved that as soon as he
could " pay some debts which he had contracted
before he had experienced religion," he would
recognize the call as of Providence, and go. His
health and strength were immediately restored.
Being enabled to effect a settlement of the pecu
niary claims against him, he prepared himself for
his missionary enterprise, followed up the north-

2;2 BLACK-ROBES.

west course, according to direction, and in due
time reached a small settlement of half-breed
Wyandots on the Upper Sandusky, where among
the first to accost him on his arrival he recognized
instantly, in living identity, the Indian and squaw
of his vision, — a manifest confirmation of the
divinity of the dream.

The Rev. Jonathan Stamper had also his revela
tions. Once upon a time, in a " remarkable dream,"
he had an interview with the spirit of the Rev.
John P. Finley, one of his best friends in life, and
for whom he mourned in death as a dear brother
departed ; and the burden of the vision was as
follows :

In his slumbers Stamper thought that he went
to the house of Finley, who welcomed him at the
door with his usual urbanity, expressed much
gratification at the visit, took him in, and sat down
with him, side by side, at the fire. Jonathan, al
though he said nothing, felt an anxiety, as was
natural, to learn something respecting the world
of spirits. The shade of the departed, divining
the desire, said, —

" Brother, you are filled with curiosity."

" Yes," Jonathan replied ; " my mind has taken
a very curious turn."

" Well," continued the shadow, " ask any ques
tion you see proper, and I will satisfy you, so far
as I can, consistently with the laws of the country
where I live."

THE METHODIST. 273

" Brother," Jonathan then began to interrogate,
" are you happy ?"

" Happy as heaven can make me," was the re
sponse.

" When you died, did you enter immediately into
heaven ?"

" No ; but I immediately started for it. It took
me three days to make the journey, though I sped
with the velocity of a sunbeam. I passed beyond
the boundaries of this system, and lost sight of the
most distant star that twinkles in these skies, and
entered into thick and uninterrupted darkness."
Here the shadow paused for a moment; then, re
suming with an expressive look, " Oh, brother," it
said, " hell is a solemn reality ! — After this, I all at
once burst into the glories of heaven."

" The Scriptures represent heaven as a glorious
city, such a one as was never seen on earth, and
by other splendid and beautiful imagery. Is this
entirely figurative," inquired the dreamer, " or is it
a literal description ?"

" Partly literal and partly figurative," answered
the shade. " Heaven is a local residence gloriously
fitted up for the abode of saints and angels. All
the beautiful imagery of the Scriptures is there
seen, though of a spiritual character ; such as the
trees ever green, the golden streets, etc."

Jonathan then inquired if the saints in heaven
knew each other.

The deceased assured him that they did, per-

274

BLACK-ROBES.

fectly. He knew all the patriarchs, prophets, and
apostles at sight

Here the dreamer, satisfied with his examination,
rested ; when his ethereal visitant, who seemed to
be quite as much in the dark about earthly affairs
as was his brother in the flesh concerning things
celestial, became querist in return, and thus began
to interview the slumberer :

" I desire to know how you are getting along in
the good work."

" About as we were when you were with us."

" Do the Methodists pay their preachers no
better than formerly ?"

" No !"

" Oh ! what a pity ! what a pity ! The itinerant
plan," the shadow of the old exhorter then went
on to say, " is the plan of God. He designs it to
take the world, and nothing will prevent it but a
want of liberality in our people. You must never
locate. If I had my life to live again, I would
travel, if I begged my bread from door to door. If
I had traveled as I ought to have done, I should
have shone much brighter in heaven than I now
do. Don't locate, brother; God will support you."
He then reached up to the chimney-piece, the
dreamer proceeds to relate, and took down a con
siderable roll of bank-notes of the most beautiful
and singular appearance, which he handed to Jona
than, saying, " Here, — these are for you."

Jonathan suggested that perhaps the money had

THE METHODIST. 275

better go to his own widow, but the shade an
swered, " No ; it is for you. There is- a bank in
heaven for the support of itinerant preachers, and
this is for you ;" when the slumbering brother re
luctantly reached out his hand and took it After
some loud and animated shouting and singing, the
vision ended, and the sleeper awoke.

This saintly interview of Brother Jonathan must
not be understood as a humorous invention, de
vised, by way of novelty, as a hint for higher
salaries, but as a circumstance of serious fact and
worthy of most sober acceptance.

Among the reverends notable for their early
labors along the bor- er are to be found such men
as Thomas Wilkinson, John Page, John Watson,
Lewis Garret, Benjamin Lakin, Jesse Walker, Sam
uel Parker, Samuel Doughty, Benjamin Young,
Anthony Houston, John Adam Granadd, Jacob
Young, Archibald McElroy, — distinguished for
his " peculiar aversion to Calvinism," — and the
Bishops Asbury and McKendree. Jarvis C. Tay
lor has a rather prominent record as "a pretty
good poet,'*and the author of a pamphlet under
the inviting title of " News from the Infernal
Regions." James Quinn, who " lived and preached
like a primitive evangelist," enjoys the distinction,
which he shares with his " poor horse Wilks," of
having been first to carry the Methodist gospel
into the State of Ohio (1799). Four years later,
having been appointed, with John Meek for his

2;6 BLACK-ROBES.

colleague, to the newly-created " Hockhocking
Circuit," embracing the settlements in the valleys
of the Muskingum, Scioto, and Hockhocking, he
made his permanent abode within its bounds.
Benjamin Lakin is known in connection with Peter
Cartwright as having been the original pioneer of
the Faith in Indiana (1802), among the borderers
occupying the lands opposite Louisville. These
neighborhoods were formed into a circuit called the
" Silver Creek Circuit," and placed under charge
of Moses Ainsworth, in 1807. The credit of in
troducing Methodism into Illinois (1793) belongs
to Joseph Lillard; although Hosea Riggs was the
first to settle in the State, about five years later.

Methodism was of rapid growth in the back
woods, — everywhere except in Western Pennsyl
vania, throughout the length and breadth of which
" Calvinism and Universalism had so intrenched
themselves that Methodism could scarcely live," —
its preachers " not hoping to rise above the occu
pation in the church of hewing wood and drawing
water." In 1800 the communion, embracing the
entire membership of the border, numbered 2OOO
souls. In 1802 it was increased to 7200; in 1804,
to 9600; and in 1811, to 30,741. Work done
quickly, however, is seldom work done well.
Members were glued to the surface merely, as
would appear, not mortised into the body of belief;
so that, while there is room for regret, there is
none for surprise, that they should hold in place

THE METHODIST. 277

by an attachment very precarious, and extremely
liable to come apart under unfavorable exposure.
Three thousand cases of apostasy are reported as
having occurred within one year (1812). Perhaps
it was from the commonness of a tendency thus to
lapse — natural, nay, inevitable, from the "method"
by which conversions were made — that, to meet
the exigency, it had been found necessary at the
outstart to declare against the dogma of the " per
severance of the saints," and not only to confess
the possibility of "falling from grace," but to
write and register the confession as a doctrine of
the church.

And so, keeping up a pretty equal ratio of in
crease through the years ensuing, the Society has
gone on winning and losing, but, in the long run,
gaining and growing ; and so it lives and flourishes,
whether to last for long in the future, as organisms
of forced growth seldom can, or to die out eventu
ally, all the sooner for the process, the time to be
must determine.

24

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

I.

OLD REDSTONE - ITS PEOPLE AND ITS PRESBYTERY.

OVER the top-piece of the door of the old
house in which he lived, in the " Nether
Bow/' John Knox, the maker of Presbyter ianism,
had caused to be written this legend :

. all * and * w* . nichfaw* . a

If the distinguished Scotch Reformer had made
search through all the recorded sayings of the wise
of all ages, he could not, for his purpose, have hit
upon a more comprehensive, a better, or a more
beautiful precept If, as well as across the lintel
of his home, he could have had the sentence in
scribed over the threshold of the sanctuary in
which he preached, and at the same time have made
its sentiment the governing principle of the new
faith which it was his choice to proclaim, his fol
lowers would have been none the worse of it, and
himself, perhaps, somewhat the better. But the
24* (281)

282 BLACK-ROBES.

text seems not to have been understood according
to the letter of its rendering ; else the First of
Presbyterians could never have merited tie epithet,
scarcely complimentary, of the " Iconoclast," nor
his disciples have perpetuated for themselves a
fame of reproach for deeds of violence and vandal
ism done by their hands. Churches would not
have been forcibly entered and despoiled; pictures
and images sacred to Christian worshipers would
have been spared, and monasteries would have
been exempt from sack and from pillage.

Whatever tracing may serve for his picture as
of to-day, — with which this sketch has nothing to
do, — one hundred years ago, when we find our
" congregation"alist drifted off from his native
shore and anchored far away in an inland wilder
ness of the New World, we discover a likeness but
little altered from the original, notwithstanding
generations had passed since its angry population,
roused at the blast of their prophet's trumpet, were
stirred to riotry in the streets of Perth, and although
two centuries had elapsed since the Reformer him
self had ended his career and been gathered to his
fathers. First among adventurers had he started
from the settlements of his people on the James
and Rappahannock, and foremost among squatters,
crossing the ridges of intervening mountains and
penetrating to the "Yough" and Monongahela,
had he hewn out his little clearing and planted his
cabin, on the levels and slopes drained and made

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 283

fertile by their floods. Still the legitimate, unadul
terated issue of the race to which he belonged,
the characteristics of the progenitor were inherited
in the successor; his tough energies, eager to be
employed, seeking that occasion for exercise
among the savages which more fortunate forbears
had found in their feuds among old neighbors.

Backwoodsmen were "crack " men all, as it well
became them to be; but at handling an axe or
poising a rifle, at leveling a tree or laying a Mingo,
at willing with a purpose and doing what was to be,
whole-heartedly, till all done and well done, better,
at best, than the Scotch-Irish Presbyterian wore
not buckskin nor domiciled in logs on the border.
Did forests, dense and deep, encumber the ground
which he would reduce to cultivation ? Inch by
inch he hacked his way in through the timber, till
patches at first of fat soil growing into fields, then
widening into farms, were laid bare, and the labor
that Hercules might have halted at was accom
plished. Were murderous assaults essayed against
him by the savage ? He was ready to meet him,
in his own way and on his own terms : behind trees,
a hundred yards between, at " Hy Spy," — the style
of dueling current in those days, — with a rifle ;
openly and face to face, at throwing-distance, with
a tomahawk ; or grip and grip, with a knife. Be
sieged in his cabin, he would hold at bay his
score of dusky assailants outside, discharging death
through the loop-holes, while his wife moulded

284. BLACK-ROBES.

the bullets and his stripling son picked the flints ;
amid all comporting himself as composedly as
though a bull's-eye were his target, and a shooting-
match on an after-harvest holiday the occasion. In
his lexicon there was no such word as fear, — no
such word as fail. His practical belief was that
virtue goes by inheritance, and that with man, the
son, in his degree, as with God, the Father, in his,
all things were possible ; that, not in a conditional
sense but an absolute, it was practicable to say to
a mountain, " Be thou removed, and be thou cast
into the sea," and to see it done ; in fine, that mira
cles were not mysteries, but may-be's, — difficult,
no doubt, of achievement, but, under a living con
sciousness of one's omnipotence, feasible.

But the Presbyterian was not only remarkable
for his qualities of faith and courage. All the
severer, or what may be termed the more strictly
masculine, virtues besides, were permeating ele
ments, as well, in his character. He was honest.
Averse to aught that savored of disingenuousness
or dissimulation, — of hypocrisy or fraud, — his opin
ions were never liable to misapprehension, nor his
conduct, if he knew it, open to misconstruction.
As he thought, he spake, — " the word the cousin
to the thing" always; as he spake, he meant; and
as he meant, so, to the letter, he lived. He was
just. Accepting certain maxims, hereditary in his
house since the days of the Marys, — or of Moses,
for that matter, — as of settled incontrovertibility,

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 285

he made them the rule of his reasoning and of his
judgments. The rule may have been hard, but
it was wholesome ; he could quote you the text
for it, and he was true to the text. Wrongs done
had to be righted to the fullest degree of compen
sation. If a man caused a blemish in his neigh
bor, as he had done so was it to be done to him.
It was bounden duty to duplicate a crime — lawfully
to perpetrate over again that which in itself was
unlawful — in order to atone for it; to smite for
having smitten ; to maim for having maimed ; to
murder for having murdered. Such was his stand
ard of equity ; even-handed assuredly, and impar
tial, as was becoming, in accordance with the
economy of ancient dispensation, in which he de
lighted, and to which he adhered with loyal fidelity.
So, examined strictly on each, down through the
whole catalogue of moralities, — examined, that is,
in the light of the olden ordinances, — he might be
represented as of righteous reputation in all, unim
peachable, irreproachable. Like the young Judean
in the gospel, he knew the Commandments, and
kept them. He did not commit adultery ; he did
not kill ; he did not steal ; he did not bear false
witness ; he defrauded not ; he honored his father
and his mother.

But there his virtues ended. Perfect as he strove
to be, and as, according to the law, let it be con
ceded, he was, yet, measured by the purer standard
of the gospel, was he lamentably wanting. As the

286 BLACK-ROBES.

law knew not charity, neither did he. How could
he be generous and at the same time just? To
show mercy was, to the extent of the showing,
without authority to abate the punishment duti
fully due the offender, thus becoming an offense
in itself. To forgive absolutely was to forget all
obligation and to sin unpardonably. Under cloud
of such a conviction, he stood veiled impenetrably
apart, as it were, from all the warmer, kindlier,
brighter influences of heaven. With the tender
growth indigenous to it ever as it peeped to the
surface plucked up by the roots, his heart, weary
at length of the ineffectual struggle, ceased its
efforts, sunk into unproductiveness, and so re
mained, a blighted, ruined, wreck-strewn waste.
He had no feeling. His nerves were steel ; " his
blood was very snow-broth." Hard, uncompro
mising, compassionless, the very virtue — the sum-
mum jus — in which he gloried, was the vice — the
summa injuria — that told most to his shame.

The Presbyterian had a religious character as
well as a moral ; not less marked, — not less thor
oughly imbued with the spirit of the law, — not less
in accord with the temper of the gospel.

A reverend orator, now occupying a high posi
tion as a theological teacher in a leading school of
the sect, on a certain occasion once made " Prot
estantism " the theme of a popular discourse. In
the discussion of his subject, he undertook to make
it appear that the antagonistic feature implied in

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 287

its title was the one of highest order and of most
praiseworthy merit in the reconstructed system of
which he appeared as the champion, — in other
words, arguing, upon the presumption, apparently,
that whatever is, in religion, is, always has been,
and always must be wrong, that therefore the
oftener the " protest " the purer the profession. In
proof of his point he started back with the genesis
of history, quoting his examples from the patriarchs
(strangely overlooking, however, the still earlier
instance in the garden of Eden), and so, from the
Luther of the Flood, coming down, through the
prophets, the apostles, and the martyrs, to John
Knox of Edinburgh. Why he stopped short of
Beecher — or Brigham Young — did not satisfac
torily appear.

The early religionist of the Monongahela Val
ley was of like mind, precisely, with the Princeton
Professor. His conviction seemed to be that the
worst and most dangerous enemy, if not, indeed,
the only one, which the church had to contend
against, was the church itself; that the surest way
to prove a faith perfect was to pick flaws in it; that
to point out its weaknesses was to show its strength,
and — coming down to the practical belief at the
bottom of the whole — that to despitefully treat the
world of believers outside his own elect circle, and
to cast contempt upon their usages, was, as the Nether
Bow motto had it, to "lufe God above all, and his
nichbour as himself." Chiefly was it his duty to

288 BLACK-ROBES.

protest against all, in creed, or custom, or cere
monial, that appertained to the Roman Catholic
Church, — that Scarlet Woman, and Mother of
Harlots and Abominations of the earth. Did she,
out of deference to a taste which she thought it
not derogatory to her Christian character to gratify,
build her temples after an artistically ordered plan,
and with an eye to architectural beauty? Turret
and spire, and arch and column, were heathenish
devices, therefore, and decorated walls and carved
woods and dim religious lights idolatrous inven
tions, contrived to captivate the carnal sense and
allure infatuated souls to their eternal undoing.
Square walls instead, and squat roofs, inclosing
interiors bare, utterly, of ornament, and as dull,
comfortless, and wretched as possible, composed
the edifices of worship, presumed only to be con
sistent with a proper idea of devotion. In the
observance of the "popish" Sunday was it lawful to
engage in such innocent diversions as, contributing
to rest and relaxation, would make the day one to be
looked forward to eagerly through the week, and
to be enjoyed heartily and sincerely when it came?
The very idea of " rest," in any reasonable sense, lay
under rigid ban of the "protest." To walk abroad
in wood or field, to sing (unless a psalm of Rouse),
to read (except a treatise on Justification, or a dis
sertation on the Decrees), to talk (unless upon
some topic drawn from the Confession of Faith),
to laugh from any cause, and, indeed, to eat (ex-

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 289

cept cold meats of Saturday's cooking), were sins,
one and all, of rankest odor, that smelt to heaven.
Dispensation was granted for but one indulgence:
"Monongahela" was not prohibited, and the Pres
byterian could take his toddy when he pleased
— hot or cold — without offense. For writing
hymns and singing them on the Lord's day, Zin-
zendorf, the Moravian, and his daughter were
arrested and fined in the sum of six shillings. In
fact, to such an extent was the reformatory process
carried that Christ was almost protested out of
Christianity, and the anomalous but scarcely sin
gular coincidence succeeded of extremes meeting,
and Gospeler and Jew uniting on a common basis
of belief and practice.

And yet the Presbyterian was guilty of glaring
inconsistencies. He censured the presumption of
Rome in claiming to be the only true church, and
yet was quite as exclusive himself, holding no
communion with any one outside of his own per
suasion. It was punishable misdemeanor to attend
a Methodist meeting. To refuse to have his child
baptized by a " lawful minister" subjected the unruly
member to a fine, by way of expiation (for pardons
had their purchase-price outside of Babylon as
well as in it), of two thousand pounds of tobacco.
It was a cruel, despotic wrong, which neither God
nor man could excuse, to burn John Rodgers at
the stake, and yet it was a law " of universal and
perpetual equity," as orthodoxy did not hesitate to
25

290 BLACK-ROBES.

preach, and quote the Scripture for (Deut xiii.9, 10),
"to put to death any apostate seducing idolater or
heretic who seeketh to thrust away the souls of
God's people from the Lord their God." He con
tended for a Bible without note or comment, in
sisting that " God was his own interpreter, and He
would make it plain," and yet, notwithstanding,
thought the "gilt" of a confession indispensable
for the "refined gold" of the word, which the be
liever was forced to accept as solid coin, conscience
or no conscience, on peril of excommunication.
To show reverence to the Cross through one sense
was gross idolatry, while to adore it through an
other was orthodox and proper. He might not
look upon that sacred emblem without sin, and yet,
most rightfully and piously (but out of the sanc
tuary only at first, until Rouse, after a convulsion
that shook the church to its centre, was set aside
for the hymn-book), he could sing, or hear sung,
"Jesus, I my cross have taken," or, "Simply to
thy cross I cling," or, " Here it is I find my heaven,
while upon the cross I gaze." So in his lighter
social occupations and amusements. To participate
with a lady, at a neighborhood gathering of an
evening, in a jig, a fling, or a hornpipe, was scan
dalously indelicate and immoral, while to " hold,"
and to "bundle," as the since-discarded but then
all-prevalent customs were on the border, was
harmless and allowable. A Virginia reel was a
"session"able enormity, but a deacon might dance

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

29I

at the selfsame diversion under the fiction of
"Peeling the willow," — kiss his partner, too, at
the end of it, if he pleased, — and not provoke the
whisper of a protest.

The Presbyterian could not be charged with
negligence in the religious training of his children.
While nurselings still, and ere able to articulate
the syllables of their task distinctly, they were
taught to repeat devoutly, bent at their mother's
knees, or at the bedside, and regularly as the hour
for retiring came with each night, "Our Father
which art in heaven." Nor, besides, were their
seats allowed to be vacant at the " family exercise,"
when, morning and evening, that service was con
ducted, the father reading, and copiously comment
ing upon, some chosen portion of Scripture, lead-ing
in the singing of a psalm, and delivering a prayer
remarkable for its orthodoxy, its legality, and its
length. On weekdays no additional observances
— excepting, of course, the "grace" at meals —
were exacted. Bible and psalm-book were laid
carefully aside betweenwhiles, one upon the other,
in their corner, by sacred appropriation, of the
shelf, balanced at the opposite end by " Baxter's
Call to the Unconverted," or " Alleine's Alarm,"
and the " Pilgrim's Progress." The moral obliga
tion of Work was tantamount, in its place, to the
spiritual one of Worship, and, as in one case so in
the other, the youths of the household had to
take and bear their proportionate share. " Sab-

292 BLACK-ROBES.

bath," however, was the day especially devoted to
educational purposes. School-hours began before
breakfast, and, without a moment (except a stolen
one) of intermission or relaxation, were continued
until bedtime. Study, close, hard, dry, as incom
prehensible subject-matter could make it, was the
inflexible law, submission to which, enjoined by
parental authority, was enforced by such threaten-
ings of divine indignation for neglect as, striking
terror to the soul of the pupil, proved all-sufficient
to insure it. The discipline was stringent, but it
was effective ; so effective that scarce a boy or girl
of " evangelical " begetting was to be found on the
border but that, with Madge Wildfire, could say
" the single carritch, and the double carritch, and
justification and effectual calling, and the Assem
bly of divines at Westminster," through each par
ticular " act " and " work," and prohibition and re
quirement, from cover to cover, without a stumble.
Fifty-two good whole days at cramming out of
three hundred and sixty-five, repeated year after
year until the student had attained a parental age
and relation himself, ought to have left him at the
end quite competent to pass examination. And it
did. He understood all mysteries and all knowl
edge quite as well as Paul, — perhaps a little better.
Indeed, so complete was his theological schooling
— so thoroughly (to put it in another shape) had
he familiarized himself with the sinuosities and cir-
cuities of his channel of passage to the celestial

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

293

shores — that he felt himself entirely qualified to
sail his own craft; as he would have attempted
and been perfectly content to do, only for the fact
that the law of the line, in which he was a share
holder and by which he voyaged, demanded the
services of a professional pilot at the helm. To
preside in the pulpit, to pronounce the benediction,
to administer the sacraments, must be done, ac
cording to statute, by the minister, licensed, called,
and ordained for the discharge of those offices.

The settlement of Western Pennsylvania may be
said to date from 1752, when Christopher Gist, with
eleven other pioneers and their families, chose out
places and built them cabins at what is known
as Mount Braddock, lying west of the Youghio-
gheny, and about midway between Connellsville
and Uniontown, in Fayette County. The early
emigrants were exposed to sufferings that made
their lot a sorely trying one. The forests were
infested with roving bands of savages, armed with
knife and rifle, and abroad everywhere for mas
sacre and plunder. Who stepped beyond the
threshold of his door went out at the peril of his
life. Men were slain in the fields ; women, as
they went to the springs for water, were seized
and butchered or carried captive into the wil
derness. Dwellings were burned, property was
destroyed or stolen, and, in short, disasters and
misfortunes visited upon him so sweeping and dis
heartening as might well have served to deter the

25*

294 BLA CK~R OBES.

borderer from a new attempt to establish himself
in so inhospitable a region. But the iron will of
the Covenanter, used in other lands to maintain
itself under hardest pressure of adversity, was not
of a texture likely to yield to the circumstances,
grievous as they were, of his new situation.
Crushed to earth, he rose again. Out of the ashes
of his ruin sprang up himself in certain reappear
ance, with the finer perfumes of his nature lost,
perhaps, like a rose subjected to a similar process,
but with his other perfections purified rather than
impaired in the palingenesis. Miraculous energy
such as this was sure to win in the end. The
savage, wearying at length of his unsuccessful
efforts at dislodging his enemy, ceased his raids,
and the pioneer was left in undisturbed possession
of his home. Hostilities suspended, adventurers
who had not cared to share the perils of the border
while they lasted, took heart of the fact, and began
to follow as their predecessors had led. Emigrant
after emigrant gathered in; clearings multiplied;
cabin after cabin was built, until at length, of a
still summer twilight, house-dog baying to house
dog, the chain of responses linked across the roll
ing lands to Old Redstone, — to Turkey-foot, — to
Catfish ; and down the valleys of the Youghio-
gheny and Monongahela to the little " Manor,"
that lay — with a destiny in store for it of which the
loiterers in and about it did not dream — wedged in
between its rivers, a hundred miles below, under

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 295

the guns of old Fort Pitt. As early as 1763, at the
close of the French War, the settlements had a
population of four thousand souls.

At this time the Presbyterian Church in the East
began to turn 4ts attention to the West. A meet
ing of the Synod of New York and Philadelphia,
down till 1789 the supreme judicatory of the church,
was held, when, the condition of the " distressed
frontier inhabitants" being taken into considera
tion, it was resolved to send out two ministers on
a tour of inspection among them. The Reverend
Messrs. Beatty and Brainerd were nominated for
the mission. According to their report, offered
before Synod at its next meeting (1764), they were
providentially prevented from fulfilling their ap
pointment, " the whole design of the mission being
entirely frustrated by the breaking out of the In
dian [Pontiac's] war." Two years later (1766) the
appointment of Mr. Beatty, with Mr. Duffield for
his colleague on this occasion, was renewed. The
savages having abandoned their designs on Fort
Pitt and retired beyond the Ohio, the journey
could be taken with entire safety, and the two rev
erend gentlemen started on it accordingly. At the
fort they were politely received by Captain Mur
ray, the commandant, who gave them places at his
table, provided them with rooms, and furnished
them with beds, so that, "on the whole," as a his
torian of the times relates, "they.were as comfort
able as could be expected." After a flying visit to

296 BLA CK-ROBES.

the Muskingum, they returned home, the whole
tour consuming some six or eight weeks. No par
ticular results are recorded as growing out of the
mission. Messrs. Cooper and Brainerd were next
commissioned for the service, "to- spend at least
three months on the frontier;" but, in consequence
of ".discouraging accounts brought in by the inter
preter, Joseph," they declined to act. Mr. Ander
son, shortly afterwards, was proposed to take the
field "for twelve Sabbaths," at twenty shillings a
Sabbath ; but it does not appear from the records
that he ever went. Mr. Niles, the next appointee,
" failed through sickness." Other emissaries, such
as Finley (1771), — who took advantage of the trip
to buy himself a good tract of land in Fayette
County, — Craighead, and King (1/72), Foster
(1775) and Carmichael (1776), were ordered out on
transient visits, certainly one (Finley), and possibly
two of whom, complied, although without seeming
to have accomplished anything worthy of men
tion ; and thus terminated the efforts of the church
towards the planting of the Faith on the border.

Late in the year 1776 a little band of journeyers
might have been seen pursuing patiently the way
by which the descent, on its western slope, of
Laurel Hill is made. The track they followed was
that opened up twenty years before by the unfor
tunate British officer who, alas ! never lived to
trace it all back .again, and which was long after
wards known, in association with that disastrous

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 297

expedition, as " Braddock's Trail." A man in the
prime of life, with his oldest .daughter, still a girl,
behind, and his youngest, a child, pillowed before
him on a horse, led the way, closely followed by
his wife, riding like himself and leading still another
horse, on either side of which, packed snugly in
creels or baskets slung across the animal and fast
ened securely to the pack-saddle, were deposited
the two remaining children of the family. Thus,
one day in the darksome month of November, de
scended into the valley of the wilderness JAMES
POWER, who enjoys the distinction among Presby
terians of having been first of the Black-Robes of
their order to establish himself among the settlers
of the border and "aid in laying the foundations
of the western Zion." Mr. Power undertook this
mission not by appointment of the church, but on
his own motion, prompted to it, without doubt,
precisely as was any other emigrant of the time,
by the attractive prospects of the new region, with
its fields of plenty and of promise, opened up and
reaching forth invitingly for occupation. Indeed,
except that we hear somewhat vaguely, of his
having baptized a child for Mr. Marquis, at Cross
Creek, in 1778, there is no positive evidence that
he pursued his profession at all, in any regular
way, for several years after his arrival. On the
contrary, the date of his first settlement and ser
vice as a preacher (at Mount Pleasant) is fixed by
Dr. McMillan as late as 1781.

298 BLACK-ROBES.

In the mean time the congregations of the
frontier, left altogether uncared for, and beginning
to realize, as we have seen, the necessity of church
organization, decided to take up the work and
carry it through on their own account. Meetings
were held accordingly. As the result, on the
2 1st of June, 1779, a Call was made out from the
" United Congregations at Buffalo and Cross Creek,
to the Rev. Joseph Smith, a member of the Pres
bytery of New Castle." The Call set forth "the
great loss youth sustain by growing up without the
stated means of grace, the formality likely to spread
over the aged, and the great danger of ungod
liness prevailing amongst both : there being divers
denominations of people among us" (Ommishes,
or Dunkards, Quakers, and Seventh-day Baptists)
"who hold dangerous principles, tending to mis
lead many weak and ignorant people." Submission
was pledged to the " due exercise of discipline,"
and a salary promised of one hundred and fifty
pounds, or rather, according to the summing up
of the subscription paper accompanying the Call,
something over a hundred and ninety-seven pounds,
Pennsylvania currency, "money to be made equal
in value to what it was in the year 1774," before
the depreciation in that class of paper took place.
Among others in the list of subscribers occur the
names of Andrew Poe and Adam Poe, the famous
brothers whose daring adventures furnish the ma
terial for many a thrilling story of the border. The

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

299

Call was accepted, and, in the year following, Mr.
Smith, along with his family, planted himself per
manently within the bounds of one of his parishes.
Near about the same time the churches at Lower
Ten-Mile and Upper Ten-Mile, each distant from
the town of Washington the space intimated by
their titles, fell under the pastoral care of Thad-
deus Dodd, who had bought and was cultivating
a farm in the neighborhood ; while John McMil
lan, more noted as a " doctrinal examiner and in
structor " than as a preacher, took charge of the
congregations at Chartiers and Pigeon Creek.
With these four reverend gentlemen for its mem
bers, the old Presbytery of Redstone was organ
ized (1781), the. creed of the Catechisms established,
and the general enginery, invented at Edinburgh,
put in motion, by which backwoodsmen were to be
trained how, evangelically and soundly, to "luff
God above all, and their nichbour as themselves."

II.

THE PARSON OF SEVENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO.

A SKETCH of the Presbyterian Black-Robe of
the olden time, to represent its subject faith
fully, calls for but little variation in the general
outline from the picture already presented of the

300 BLA CK-R OSES.

layman of his persuasion. Their features in the
main were the same, save that in the case of the
officer they were more definitely traced, and be
trayed a deeper and more determined outline of
development, than in the subordinate. Passing
through the same preparatory training, yielding
under persistent pressure to the same constraints,
that which, taking its bent accordingly, hardened
eventually into a habit with the latter and ended
there, went on, attaining a still more vigorous and
overshadowing growth, until it matured into a. pro
fession, with the former. As a teacher, or preacher,
following his vocation up on a chosen line, it be
came him — of course it would become him — to
magnify that line, to show its superiority over all
other lines, and by emphatic protestation of his own
unlimited confidence in the singular and exclu
sive advantages of it, to win over customers from
competing routes. Very naturally, as a result, his
preaching turned chiefly on the points of differ
ence ; his religion became a religion of reason, and
himself the orator, conscientious, earnest, obstinate,
as schoolmen always are, of its philosophy. Mir
roring that philosophy all the while, his own mind
caught and held fast the likeness of what it re
flected, so that at last it became a fixed impres
sion, felt to the core of his being and picturing all
the surface of his character.

As the expounder of its ordinances, the Law was
with him the subject of absorbing study. It was

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 301

his meditation all the day; its testimonies were his
delight. He measured his steps by it; he ordered
his thoughts according to it; he believed, he
hoped, he preached, he sung, he prayed by it.
The straitest among the "most straitest" of
Jewish sects, in the tight days when the Pharisees
wore broadest their phylacteries, could not have
adhered with a truer or more exact fidelity to its
precepts. Its demands admitted of nothing short
of plenary and absolute satisfaction. "Thus saith
the Lord" settled the question, and was an extin
guisher upon all controversy, — a choke-off against
whatever plea the sufferer under it might propose
to offer in abatement of the decree pronounced.
Hence, where the heart of the layman under like
influences was as flint, that of the Black-Robe be
came as adamant. The springs of compassion that
should have had source in his bosom, were dried
up. " He had no juice but that was verjuice in
him."

Of such a mould, one is in no wise surprised, in
following up his history, to discover that in all
cases of civil disturbance, when, upon one provo
cation or another, mutinous men were banded
together to achieve violently the correction of
alleged causes of complaint, the disciple of the
Iconoclast was leadingly identified with the move
ment. Among the terrible incidents of border
times, that of the planned attack in the night.on
a cluster of Indian huts on the Conestoga Creek,
26

302

BLACK-ROBES.

when the unconscious slumberers were crept in
upon and " shot, stabbed, and hacked to death,"
and which was but the beginning of a continued
series of outrages, has a dark and sorrowful promi
nence. The Paxton Boys who did it, and who, the
blood of their shedding still red and, reeking on
their hands, quoted Scripture in justification of its
doing, were organized in his own parish and from
among his own parishioners, by one Presbyterian
preacher, and defended afterwards, when all was
over, as men "humane, liberal, and moral, nay, re
ligious," by another. Reverend penmen who have
written their narratives of olden events, naturally
anxious to defend the good reputation of the " mis
sionaries" from the reproach of having had either
heart or hand in Tom the Tinker's rising, assert
that no sympathy was felt for the malcontents by
the Black-Robes ; on the contrary, that they op
posed the movement " strenuously and success
fully." The scene of insubordination lay within
the bounds of what had then become (1794) the
Synod of Virginia. A party of soldiers on their
way out to aid in suppressing the insurrection, ar
rived in the town of Harrisonburg, where, at the
time, the Synod was in session. The occasion
seemed to call for an expression of loyalty, and, on
the motion of one of the members, an address to
the people was proposed, " inculcating obedience
to.the laws of the country." The prevailing senti
ment of the body, as a lively discussion soon

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

303

revealed, was that "there were wrongs to be re
dressed, rather than a rebellion to be suppressed."
A vote being taken, the address was rejected,
and Tom the Tinker had the indorsement of
the Synod.

In like manner, as respected questions affecting
the interests of humanity, — where Charity which
knew not law, on the one side, stood advocate
as against the Law that knew not charity, on the
other, — the attitude of the Presbyterian was just
what, according to his code and creed, it could
not but have been. In his own time he was the
patron, as his church after him was the apologist,
— not to use a stronger term, — of slavery, — the per
severing apologist, down until the Samaritans out
side, with whom it had no dealing, interposed to
rid the nation of the curse. He " could not say
that slavery was a sin, without charging the apos
tles of Christ with conniving at it." So he was
ready to testify, as half a century later his profes
sional successors through their General Assembly
did testify, and as often afterwards, in much less
moderately chosen terms, was ratified by many a
divine, who perhaps would scarcely care — possi
bly might blush — to own it now. For criminals
doomed to punishment he manifested no symptom
of mercy, no showing of compassion, — unless the
offer of his ghostly services at the sharply-closing
crisis of their career, in extreme cases, might be
so construed. Penance to the full extent of the

304 BLACK-ROBES.

award must be had, without easement, curtailment,
or commutation, — as, in like manner, was de
manded by the justice-loving Jew of Venice ; as, in
like manner, has been insisted upon by the clerical
of his own sect ever since and until now. A move
ment was made, not many months ago, having in
view the doing away with capital punishment in
the State of Pennsylvania. While the project^was
pending, a paper was prepared and sent forward to
the legislature from the judicatory of one of the
branches of the church (the " United Presbyterian"),
then in session at Pittsburg, praying against the
proposed change, as prompted by mistaken notions
of humanity, and as in direct contravention to the
law — not of Christ, although affirmed as " of God,"
but — of Moses.

His ideas of conversion were, of course, in har
mony with his views of belief. Faith had its phi
losophy, which the would-be partaker of its benefits
must be thoroughly drilled in before he could hope
to enjoy the saving advantage of its exercise. The
poor sinner of the gospel whose all of confession
was comprehended in two simple words, sufficient
as they seem to have been in his day, would not
have found them equal to the emergency of his
case under the later schedule of conditions : "Pisteuo
Kurie /" would scarcely have carried him past the
pickets, to get where he is gone, by way of the
Redstone Presbytery. He must have first been
led to understand that he was made a partaker of

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 305

the redemption purchased by Christ by the effectual
application of it to him by the Holy Spirit ; that
the Holy Spirit applied this redemption by work
ing faith in him, and thereby uniting him to Christ
in his Effectual Calling ; that Effectual Calling was
the work of God's Spirit, whereby, being convinced
of his* sin and misery, having his mind enlightened
in the knowledge of Christ, and his will renewed,
he would be persuaded and enabled to embrace
Jesus Christ ; and that thus, at length, being Effect
ually Called, he would partake of justification,
adoption, and sanctification, the benefits of which
were peace of conscience, increase of grace, and
perseverance therein to the end.

The ''enlightening" operation could be consid
ered as a success only by the overcoming before
hand of obstacles, minutely specified and elabor
ately described by journalists of the time, who
went through with it, and which were wellnigh
insuperable. There were the difficulties of the
" Imputation of Adam's Sin to his Posterity," the
"Strictness of the Divine Law," the fact that
" Faith alone was the Condition of Salvation," and
numerous others over which the seeker must pass
necessarily, and at which it was inevitable that he
should stumble, — not to mention the experience,
indispensable besides, of a " Sufficient Weanedness
from the World," and of the " Mortification of in
dwelling Corruption," before he could expect to
gain " evidence of serious and comfortable exer-
26*

306 SLA CK-R OSES.

cise." The satisfaction which followed the enlight
enment was of its own kind, and quite peculiar to
the Presbyterian subject. Moses Tinda Tautamy,
the converted Indian interpreter of Brainerd, in his
moments of enthusiasm used to testify, " that he
never felt better pleased than when his heart echoed
to the soul-humbling doctrines of grace, and -when
he heard of the absolute sovereignty of God, and
the salvation of sinners in a way of mere free
grace." A refreshing experience it must have
been, certainly.

A " call " for the ministry, while not claimed as
having been made through special and miraculous
revelation of himself by the Almighty, as in the
case of the Methodist, was still viewed as of super
natural prompting; the Deity indicating, not in
an ostensible way, but through the secret con
sciousness of the subject, his election to the sacred
office. That God had a choice, and that this one
or that one out of the multitude of less worthy
vessels, on some account or other, which often
puzzled the inquirer to determine, had been par
ticularly ticketed for distinction, was assumed as a
matter of course. The election, although usually
signified to the favored subject himself directly,
was not unfrequently, however, the result of ar
rangement entered into with responsible parties
before, and, in fact, as a condition of, his existence.
He was made to order, as it were ; expfessly to fill
a place for which, amonj all the living ready-made,

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 307

the fitting substitute was not to be found. One of
the members of the Old Redstone Presbytery thus,
we are informed, on their pledge that he should
be dedicated to the ministry, was granted to his
parents, " like Samuel and John of old," in answer
to special prayer.

But the mere " call " was not enough to entitle
the candidate to an assumption at once of the
functions of the priestly office. A previous course
of training, really indispensable to a complete
mastery of the difficult mysteries of his faith, was
required ; embracing in its order a thorough study
of the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages. Con
sequently, whatever may have been his position
with regard to information derivable from other
alien sources, in his own literature, or that of his
church, he was well schooled. The distinctive
dogmas of his communion, which he was taught
to respect as its most sacred properties, were the
subjects upon which it was his duty to be accu
rately informed. As the sinners among whom it
must be his destiny, following along the border, to
direct his missionary labors, would consist chiefly
of Quakers, Sabbatarians, Baptists, and Methodists,
he must not only hold correct views, but be able
to defend them, of Original Sin, Election, Pedo-
baptism, and Perseverance. Familiarity with the
scriptural languages prepared him not merely to
grapple with doctrine in the naked, as it were, but
armed him besides with the means of hopelessly

3o8 BLA CK-R OBES.

confounding the adversary with whom he had to
deal ; for while the Arminian and the Immersionist,
from frequent hearing of controversies common to
the time, had caught and could toss back again
their single stray terms of " original," their Pres
byterian antagonist in return could overwhelm
either, or both, with whole sentences of dumb-
foundering quotation.

Testimony must be borne to the fact that the
Presbyterian was always the faithful friend and
zealous promoter of education. The Methodist him
self, contemptibly ignorant as he was, — conscious
of it, too, and glorying in it, — recognized, in the
very attempt of affecting to despise, this feature of
excellence in his Calvinistic rival. Scarcely had
he planted himself in his new parishes on the
border, when he began to turn his attention to that
interest. Rev. Joseph Smith, appreciating the want
which all the neighborhood experienced, but had
not the enterprise to remedy, determined to take
the correction of it in charge. Consulting first his
wife, and having secured her " cordial acquies
cence," he set apart a new kitchen which, as an
appendage to his house, he had just built, and, at
Upper Buffalo, in 1785, opened in it a classical
school, the first of the kind in the West, com
mencing duty with three young men, Messrs. Mc-
Gready, Porter, and Patterson, for his pupils. In
1791—2 the institution was transferred to Canons-
burg, erected into an academy, and by appoint-

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 309

ment of the Synod of Virginia, who assumed the
control of it, left for management in the hands of
the Rev. Dr. John McMillan. The establishment
grew in favor, increased in patronage, and acquired
a wider and wider renown, until, under charter of
the State, as Jefferson College, in 1802, it took its
place among the leading seminaries of the land.

And yet, sorrily irreconcilable with such tutor
age as it would seem, the Presbyterian Black-Robe
was decidedly — confessedly — superstitious. As
between his own views on this point and those of
his Wesleyan brother, he made the distinction,
where it is difficult to detect the difference, that
whereas the latter claimed the manifestations with
which he was honored as of express matter-of-fact
revealment from heaven, his were referable to " a
strong and firm persuasion" flowing from an ex
traordinary " liberty and enlargement of soul." The
Rev. Joseph Smith lay, as was supposed, at the
point of death. Mr. Edgar, a warm personal friend,
was hastening to wait upon him in his extremity,
when, as he approached the house, he met an old
lady who was considered in her neighborhood as
a " Mother in Israel." Mr. Edgar's first natural
inquiry had reference to the condition of his sick
friend. "He is worse," said the Mother; "but he
will not die, for the Lord hath told me to-day that
He will raise him up, and send him out to the
West to preach the gospel ;" and, continues the
reverend writer who has made memorandum of

3io

BLACK-ROBZS.

"this singular but well-authenticated fact," he
began to recover from that very hour. This same
ministerial gentleman with his wife was returning
from a walk, one evening, about sundown, when, in
a wood near the town where they dwelt, " they
both distinctly heard strains of sweet and melo
dious music over the tops of the trees, that seemed
to them to rise and float away into the distant skies."
It was interpreted " as under a special providential
direction, and designed, as without doubt it served,
to encourage and cheer them in the prospect of
setting out at no distant day, with their family of
helpless children, to the western wilds." It did not
weaken the supernatural aspect of the case that a
band, in a military encampment some distance off,
was known as a regular custom to serenade the
closing day ; but it did surprise the historian, as
he states in a foot-note, that so excellent a writer
as Dr. Mosheim should sneeringly speak of "the
pious sort of mistake" that Christians sometimes
make in interpreting a " happy coincidence" into
a special interposition of Providence. A son of
the Rev. James Finley, one of a party of twenty
men, was waylaid and attacked by a band of sav
ages. A sharp skirmish took place. Finley, the
force to which he belonged being worsted and
beginning to retreat, found, when he wanted to fire
as he ran, that his gun would not "go off," stopped
to pick his flint, and, doing so, fell behind his com
panions. An Indian leveled his rifle at him, but

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 311

before he could fire was luckily shot down. A
few moments later, by a happy dodge, he succeeded
in throwing one of his comrades between himself
and a pursuing red-skin, and so escaped, but at the
expense of the life of the comrade, who was in
stantly tomahawked by the enemy. At the same
hour, as a comparison of time instituted afterwards
made to appear, the father of young Finley, three
hundred miles off, felt a "strange and unaccount
able impression" that his son was in imminent
danger of some sort, and immediately "betook
himself to intense and agonizing prayer" for the
boy. He continued this exercise for some time,
until at length " he felt relieved and comforted, as
though the danger was past." Finley, the senior,
regarded the escape as a special providence. How
the father of the son who was elbowed back and
got brained instead esteemed it, we are not in
formed.

After the expiration of his academical term, the
pupil was transferred to some minister, under whose
private instruction he pursued his strictly theologi
cal studies; Dr. McMillan's lectures being his text
book, with such collateral authorities besides as
the clerical libraries, within reach of borrowing,
afforded. This system of private tuition — a neces
sity of the time — had its advantages. The student
enjoyed the undivided care and attention of the
teacher. What was required, by olden usage in
the church, to be learned, he had to learn, and to

312 BLACK-ROBES.

learn well. There could be no shirking of duty, —
no skipping over of half- mastered tasks. Ready
to lend assistance when assistance was needed, the
instructor, nevertheless, expected, and taught his
disciple to expect, that the burden of achievement
should rest on his own shoulders, and that if he
would bear him worthily up under the pressure,
and carry him palmily through, it must be mainly
by his own efforts. The consequence was that the
close of his apprenticeship found him well prepared
for service, and possessed, very naturally, of. the
fullest confidence in his own sufficient ability to
assume, and capably to wield, the responsibilities
of his office. But the system had its drawback.
Presbyterianism was not born in a manger, nor
saluted in its cradle with the songs that angels are
wont to employ at the Nativities over which they
rejoice. Sprung from a conjunction of the tem
poral with the spiritual, its character discovered a
pretty evenly-balanced share of the family marks
of both. If it appeared with an olive-branch in one
hand, it came armed with a sword-blade in the
other. Its seel in church became its party in state,
for one, or the other, or both of which, it could
either fight or pray, as inclination prompted or as
the contingency invited. Politics and "persuasion"
were woof and warp of one piece, and the whole
cloth was its religion. That its " professors,"
therefore, and particularly its preachers, moved
by both these powerfully constraining influences,

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 313

should have manifested a devotion perhaps with
out a parallel — certainly without its like — to their
creed, is not astonishing. Time did not, neither
could change of scene or surrounding, of country
or of circumstance, alter the cast of their con
science, or qualify their conviction, or modify their
confession. As in the beginning, so to the end,
they were " True Blue" all the time. The master-
•graduate taught, and the student learned: learn
ing, in his turn he taught again ; so that, handed
down from generation to generation, the theology
that was promulged in the Nether Bow was per
petuated in the study of the Redstone Presbyter.
As the result, the pupil came out from his cloister
well disciplined, truly, in the tenets of his church,
but so impregnated with, and habituated to, its
" doctored" atmosphere as to doubt, if not disbe
lieve entirely in, the presence of a healthy, life-
supporting presence at all in any other.

Thus he was outfitted for duty, and so, commis
sioned, went he forth to fill his professional place
in the service, — a redoubtable champion surely, as
his Methodist cotemporary was willing to concede,
but view-contracted, arrogant, and intolerant, as the
same authority, by way of complement, and with
an emphasis decidedly more to his relish, was also
prompt to testify.

27

314

BLACK-ROBES.

III.

THE SABBATH-DAY, AND HOW IT WAS SANCTIFIED.

BEFORE the Black-Robe had thought it pru
dent to attempt a permanent settlement among
them, the borderers, not willing to await his coming
at the expense of a total deprivation of the privi
leges of worship, had long been accustomed to
observe the stated assemblings of themselves to
gether for " exercise " on the Sabbath. These
" societies," as they were called, were held in the
•private dwellings of such families as chose to
offer the accommodation, alternating from one to
another in regular rotation, and were conducted
usually by an elder ; the ordinary routine of ser
vices being followed, except that a select reading
of some appropriate sort took the place of a ser
mon, and that the delivery of the benediction, as
well as,, of course, the administration of the sacra
ments, was dispensed with. Houses of worship
began to be erected perhaps as early as 1790. In
their construction they differed in no particular
from the cabins of the settlers, only in the re
spect that they were somewhat larger. A few
hours' labor was the cheap cost of their erection.
Timber necessary for the purpose had but to be

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 315

felled, cut the desired length, notched at the ends,
laid, log upon log, in place, covered with clap
boards, and the sun that at its rising saw the axe
laid at the roots of the standing trees out of which
the work was to be made, witnessed at its setting
the laying of the last " weight-pole" that kept the
clap-boards of the roof in position and finished
the job. For ordinary Sabbath-day use the meet
ing-house answered the purpose well enough. In
summer-time, when the heat was oppressive within
doors, and on sacramental and other special occa
sions, when the attendance was unusually large,
services were conducted in the open air. Nearby
the meeting-house, on the slope of a gently-rising
hill, a plot of ground was marked off, from which
the underbrush was cleared away and the trees cut
down, with the exception of here and there an oak
or a maple of imposing growth, left to lift its wide-
spreading branches as a shelter against tbe sun.
The space "thus opened was laid with logs, or slabs,
arranged in parallel order across the ascent of the
slope, and designed to serve as seats for the con
gregation. At the lower extremity of this area a
platform was erected, six or eight feet wide by ten
or twelve in length, and about four from the ground
at the front. This platform was boarded up nearly
breast-high above its floor, entrance to it being had
by means of a short flight of steps and through a
doorway left open at one side, while the whole was
covered with a roofing of slabs. Intended as a

BLACK-ROBES.

pulpit for the minister, this structure went by the
name, along the border, of the " Tent,"- — a title still
preserved as applied to one of the oldest churches,
near Uniontown,in Fayette County, for many years,
and down to the date of his death, under the pas
toral care of that amiable gentleman and most loyal
Presbyterian, the Rev. Dr. A. G. Fairchild.

The meeting-houses were about as comfortless
as it was possible to have them. The walls, some
times "chunked and daubed," sometimes not,
allowed of a free passage of air between the logs,
the bitter blasts of which, on winter-days, told with
tingling effect on the ears, the noses, and the un
gloved ringers of the worshipers. Stoves were not
permitted in the building. Physicians objected to
them on hygienic principles, while professors op
posed them as devices of the devil, designed to pro
duce a feeling of ease in Zion, and thus to rob the
believer of the benefit of a flesh-afflicting but soul-
chastening experience. Certain, among the women
especially, of the congregation, either doubting
the efficacy of the penance, — "cross" they called
it, — or scarcely tough enough to endure it, and
willing to risk the consequences, were accustomed
to heat stones in the nearest cabin fires, or fill jugs
with boiling water, and to convey them clandes
tinely, carefully wrapped in a fold of their gowns, to
their seats, where laid upon the floor they served
to keep the feet warm at least, let the rest of the
person fare as it might. For ten or twelve years

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

317

this singular practice was persisted in; and when
at length a change was proposed, and' by a close
vote of the congregations the use of fire was
formally authorized, it was at the cost of an oppo
sition so violent as to threaten, while it lasted, the
complete disruption of the churches.

No Sabbath-day duty was more strictly enjoined
upon the people than that of regular and prompt
attendance at public worship. As the appointed
hour of service drew nigh, they might be seen filing
in along the paths that led Tent-ward through the
woods, some afoot, others on horseback, — the
riders, if fathers, with an elder son or daughter,
sometimes both, mounted behind them, or, if
mothers, studded all around with the smaller
family jewels, — a babe in the arms, last year's twins
in creels, one on each side of the " beast" bestrad-
dled, and, perched en croupe, the promising three-
year-old of the household closely hugging the
maternal waist, as a dependence both needed and
relied upon to maintain the mastery of his situa
tion. The husband rode in advance of the wife.
Arrived at the outskirts of the sanctuary precinct,
or edge of the uncleared woods, the former dis
mounted, and, after fastening his horse with a tie of
the raw-hide hitching-strap attached to its bridle,
doubly knotted and carefully tested, to a sapling or
the lower branch of a tree, turned to look to the
making fast, in like manner, of that of the latter,
who, meanwhile, drawing rein at the side of a
27*

318 BLACK-ROBES.

stump for the easier execution of the task, had,
alone and unassisted, succeeded in safely landing
herself and the entire of her infant impedimenta in
charge. Here, too, the pedestrians — the younger
folk generally of the settlements — halted as they
came, the men ostensibly to interchange neigh
borly greetings with each other, but more likely,
as observing ones among the elders shrewdly sus
pected, to cast sly glances askant at the girls, who,
having walked barefoot from their homes, to save
the wear and tear of leather, took advantage of the
partial screen afforded by the bushes to draw on
the stockings and shoes with which, wrapped up
in handkerchiefs and carried under their arms, for
wearing at " meeting," as the mannerly custom
was, they had not failed to come provided.

The ascent of the minister into the pulpit was
the signal for the congregation to assemble. So
berly and solemnly the members advanced, the men
and the wftmen falling into separate lines, and, with
very much the air of prisoners moving to their
doom, marching down the aisle or passage dividing
the auditory, these filing to the right and those to
the left, — for it was not lawful that the sexes should
worship together, — and edging in between logs as
they went, until all were seated. Among the
attendants, however, were not a few who preferred
to decline the offered accommodations of the
sanctuary. These were composed of the less rev
erent youths of the parishes, upon whom the reins

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 319

of discipline were not so tightly drawn at home as
they should have been, much to the detriment of
their proper deportment abroad, and of a sort of
Arab ^lass wandered in from the mountains, — men
with unshorn beards, shaggy heads, and faces hard
as iron and brown as its rust, — who, disliking close
quarters, were not to be drawn into a crowd when
free elbow-room could be had outside of it. Hold
ing back, near enough to hear and to see, but clear
of the consecrated limits, they stationed themselves,
leaning indolently against the trees or lolling at
half-length on the ground. Both classes — all of
the one, and many, that is, of the other — came
furnished with powder-horns and bullet-pouches,
and armed with rifles ; the latter, because it was
the regular habit of their lives, from which they
never deviated, and the former, really, perhaps, to
be ready for any chance shot that might offer at a
wild turkey or a deer on the way, but professedly for
the more orthodox purpose of protecting the con
gregation against surprise from the Indians, — who,
by the way, so far as we are informed, never offered
to interfere with them. In fact, if they had been so
inclined, much the easier and safer plan, as well as
the one more in accordance with their style of
doing things, would have been to waylay the
church-goers singly and separately on the road to
and from — rather than in a body, watchful and ex
pectant, at — the Tent.

After a short introductory invocation, the exer-

320 BLACK-ROBES.

cises of the day were opened .with the singing of a
psalm. Recited first at length from the pulpit, the
task was taken up immediately after by the pre
centor, or clerk, an officer second perhaps, but
only second, in importance to the minister, who
occupied a seat, constructed for his exclusive use,
right under the sacred desk. The stanzas were
delivered line by line by this officer, who had his
professional way of doing it, commencing at a
pitch perhaps a fifth above the natural key of his
voice, drawling out the syllables in a sort of sing
song recitative, and so regulating the intonation
as to leave the last-spoken word at the pitch pre
cisely with that of the note next in order, whatever
it might be, in the suspended melody. So nicely
were the two renderings dovetailed into each other
that they might have passed as solo and refrain, or
chant and response, of one musical performance.
In his selection of an air the clerk had a dozen out
of which to choose. These were known as the
"Twelve Tunes of David," copies of which, care
fully produced in angular "characters variously
shaped to indicate the different notes (fa, sol, la, mi)
of the gamut, and elaborately illuminated as to the
text, were among the properties of all competent
precentors. To these melodies the faithful adhered,
and to the exclusion of all others, with scrupulous
fidelity. Later down a few years, when, captivated
by their novelty, some of the more daring among
the leaders undertook to introduce certain "fugue

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 321

tunes," caught up from emigrant Yankees passing
through on their way to Marietta, — like " Corona
tion," for instance, which, by the way, became im
mensely popular soon after, — the attempt excited
intense opposition, and for some time, like the stove-
question, threatened seriously a downright schism
in the churches. The first plunge into. the melody
was made by the clerk alone, the voices of the
congregation dropping in one upon another in
after-succession with an effect which, while it
increased the volume, so retarded the progress of
the music that it required the fullest exertion of
the lung-power of the leader, always chosen with
special reference to his superior qualities of chest,
to keep the chorus up to time, or anything like it.
The style of singing was unique. The rendering
of the lines proper was prefaced by a snatch of
nasal " voluntary" — so, for lack of a better term, to
distinguish it — closely resembling the prolonged
sounding of the closing consonants of the present
participle, — ng, — and not unlike the drone of a bag
pipe before the stops are operated upon. Fairly
plunged into the text, the task of struggling
through went on, word mortising into word, note
gliding through vague and wayward flights into
note, until the end of the passage was reached.
Usually, almost uniformly, in fact, at first, the con
gregation, men, women, and children, all sang in
unison, following in various octaves the air of the
melody. Now and then a clerk, happily possessed

322 BLACK-ROBES.

of more accomplished parts than distinguished the
general, would veer off into the base; but the diver
sion was not often attempted, arrd was prudently
limited to the few closing notes of the verse ; when,
in the case of misadventure, ticklishly probable, in
the experiment, the stop of the strain would cleverly
cover up the failure. Later on, about the time of
the introduction of the fugue tunes, the singing of
"parts" began to be introduced ; in the apportion
ment under the new order of arrangement, the men
sustaining the air, and the women, or detachments
of them, serving on the " tribble," answering to what
is known in these later days as the tenor. Parceled
off in this way, the effect maybe more readily con
ceived than described of the singing of a hymn like
Mear or Dundee, the burden of it borne by the
multitudinous baritone of one side of the congre
gation, and the accompaniment, in soprano, by the
other; the voices of these latter soaring at a giddy
height among the " fifths" (making their escape
chiefly through the nose), and maintaining that
elevation, with as little variation as a decent
respect for the harmonies permitted, down to the
very close, — quieting lingeringly and reluctantly
into silence even then.

The psalm ended, a " portion of Scripture" was
read, selected usually either from the Old Testament
or the Epistles of the New, each verse of the chapter
so chosen, in its order, undergoing a close analysis
and critical exposition, rather more to the edifica-

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

323

tion than to the entertainment of the congregation.
This exercise was fallowed by a prayer, particu
larly worthy of mention on account of its length,
— often consuming thirty minutes or more in the
delivery; its breadth, — covering all subjects con
ceivably within the scope of desire, except those,
perhaps, that appear in " Our Father" in the Sermon
on the Mount ; and its depth, — penetrating to the
very bottom of profoundest doctrines, and defining
according to Westminster science, and making
clear so as to come within the comprehension of
their Author, the dark and difficult significance of
his own mysteries. After the prayer came the
second psalm of the service. This praise-offering
differed from the first in that, as read from the
sacred desk, and before being taken hold of by
the clerk, it was subjected, sentence by sentence,
to a searching note-and-comment process by the
preacher. The special aim of this labor was to
show the " evangelical" character of David the
Hebrew, and to illustrate how eminently appro
priate for devotional purposes in a Christian meet
ing-house was the psalmody composed for priestly
rehearsal in a Jewish synagogue.

But the sermon, next in order, was the feature
of the service. If the people felt it, as they evi
dently did, to be so, so, still more evidently, did
the minister. Having the scriptural authority to
that effect, it was his duty, as well as his delight,
"to magnify his office;" and as the sermon, best,

3 24 BLA CK-R O£ES.

if not alone, of the round of exercises, afforded
a ready range for the purpose, he made the most
of the chances, in it and attending it, to do that
justice to himself and his profession. After the
singing of the psalm, the pause of a moment or
two, usually occurring between performances, was
allowed to lengthen out materially, the parson
consuming the interval, very much at his leisure,
and with a quiet show of preparation that was
very impressive, in turning over the leaves of his
Bible, dog-earing a page here and there for con
venience of reference, or producing and assorting
his notes, or (although this was less ostentatiously
done) in fortifying the inner man with a draft of
sufficient cordial from the little brown jug that
seldom was wanting in its own appropriate nook
behind the breast-board of the pulpit. These pre
liminaries disposed of, to the desired effect of
stimulating the attention and whetting the ex
pectation of his listeners, he arose to his feet,
stripped himself of his coat, if the day happened
to be warm, and in his shirt-sleeves stepped for
ward to his place at the desk. Inviting the atten
tion of his hearers, he then announced his text,
indicating, first, the book, chapter, and verse, and
again, the more certainly to impress it upon the
congregation, the verse, chapter, and book, re
versely, where it was to be found. Promptly, in
return, each member of the flock produced his
own private copy of the Bible, with which he

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 325

always came provided, and, with a sound like the
rustle of leaves stirred by a summer wind, or the
flutter of birds' wings as a flight of them is about
to light among the branches, turned over the pages
in search of the passage, to make sure that it was
rendered true to the letter in the reading. As
among the sacred writers, the lawgiver and the
prophets stood first in the esteem of ministers, the
epistolary authors next, and the evangelists, rather
distantly, last. The sayings of our Lord, as gathered
from his lips and as recorded in the books of
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, were of account
certainly, but of account only as they tallied, or
could be made to seem to tally, with the utter
ances of Moses or the mystical vaticinations of
Isaiah, or as they stood the test of the criticisms
of Paul. Out of these higher authorities, there
fore, it was the favorite custom of the preacher to
choose his subject of discourse. In the treatment
of his topic he followed the old regular routine of
his fathers in the profession, — setting forth the
same proposition in the same terms, pursuing the
same line of argument in the same methodical
manner, quoting the same proofs in defense of the
same positions, and arriving, through the same
series of heads, sub-heads, inferences, and practical
observations, at the same conclusions ; very much
in the same manner, with the same degree of anima
tion, and to the same convincing, and about the
same spirit-cheering, effect that would have at-
28

326 BLA CK-R OSES.

tended the attempt, had it been made, at a solution
of a question in calculus, or one of the more intri
cate of the problems of Euclid. To go through with
all this called for time, so that, although one and
a half and two hours sometimes sufficed, three
were not regarded as an extraordinary allowance
for the performance The audience lingered out
the siege with more than the patience that could
have been expected. If the elders of the congre
gation, when their backs, which were without sup
port, grew weary, and the crook'd hinges of their
knees became cramped from long sitting, rose to
their feet during the service, it was only tojelax
their joints with a walk to window or door, if in
the meeting-house, or simply to stand for sake
of change, if on the Tent-ground, resting them
for a time against sill or jamb in the one case, or
leaning, still listeningly and devoutly, with palms
planted, hand over hand, on the knotted heads of
their stout hickory walking-sticks, in the other.
The younger hearers kept up a wakeful attention
as long as they could, the better to sustain them
at it nibbling the while at shreds and ends of
slippery-elm bark, peppermint, and sassafras-root,
or gnawing at bits of biscuit. But even these
expedients spent their virtue ere long, when, after
many a nod dropped more and more decisively,
followed by as many a less and less alarmed start
of recovery, the drowsy influence prevailed, and
the captured senses settled into a repose that was

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 327

thenceforth to know no balk nor break through
all the dull while the sermon lasted. The women,
less restless than the men, if not quite so attentive,
sat the performance out with the perseverance of
saints. If the day proved warm and the atmosphere
close, they employed their folded handkerchiefs
as fans, or, unprovided with those conveniences,
the leafy extremities of the slender twigs which
they had used on their way to " meeting" to brush
off the flies from the necks and the flanks of their
horses. But for this exercise as a counter-recourse,
the influences together of weather and "word"
would have been insupportable, and the strongest
of flesh, the most willing of spirit, must have sunk
exhausted under them. Except the mothers — not
a few, nor far between-times freshly in that way —
among them ; in which case tired nature found a
sufficient diversion in the frequently-recurring at
tentions required by their nurslings, whose crav
ings and whose necessities had to be cared for, of
course, — as they were, right openly, and without
a thought of impropriety, in the presence of the
whole congregation.

Meanwhile a spirit of impatience, in smart
contrast with the forced repose of the people,
began to manifest itself among the "beasts,"
standing hitched in close neighborhood to each
other, along the outer lines of the Tent-ground.
Fagged by the toils of the Sabbath-day's journey
that brought them there ; with hanging heads, and

328 BLACK-ROBES.

drooping ears, and eyes half closed ; leaning their
weight on three legs for the relief of the remaining
one, loosely depending and resting at ease on the
toe, as it were, of its hoof; showing scarcely a sign
of life, except an occasional quiver of the skin on
flank or foreshoulder, to shake off the flies that
swarmed about them when they became too an
noying, — the drowsy animals had stood out the
opening services in a well-behaved and most or
thodox manner. But rest, in due time, wrought its
work, and, rousing from the dreamy, indolent mood
into which they had settled, the creatures, refreshed,
were now themselves again. Wearying soon from
idleness, as before from exercise, they became rest
less and fretful; switching their tails at the trouble
some insects whose stinging assaults were no longer
to be passively endured, stamping their feet, and
swinging round their heads with great stretches,
sometimes to the very shank of a hind-leg, lifted to
shorten the effort, to bring their teeth to bear re-
lievingly, or their noses, upon some particularly
irritated spot of attack. Hitched to neighboring
trees, pairs of cross-grained geldings, on terms of
forbearance hitherto, seeming to have discovered
sudden cause of misunderstanding, threw back
their ears, made dashes with open teeth at each
other, and, finding their career checked by the
tightened tether before quite within nipping dis
tance, reversed their tactics, and, turning rear to
rear, with angry screams joined skirmish with their

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 329

heels. Mares, appearing to have awakened all at
once to the consciousness of their absence, began
to call, in tones indicative of alarm, for their off
spring. Prompt at the summons, the colts, bleat
ing as they ran, came racing from abroad in the
woods, whither they had wandered ; in the confu
sion attending the common rush, making for the
wrong dams, and meeting with such repulses, when
they began to make themselves at home, as to send
them skipping away, their mouths, the while, going
through the motions, but without the voice — too
completely shocked by surprise to find it — of a
protest at the unmotherly treatment. Stallions,
stationed prudently at more distant posts, caught
the contagion of excitement, champed their bridle-
bits, pawed the ground madly with their feet,
tramped in circles round and round the saplings
to which they were tied, — winding themselves up,
and then unwinding back again, in the process, —
leaped, now with plunges that made their straight
ened raw-hide fastenings twang to cracking fairly
under the strain, now stood with lifted crest in
breathless pause, now gave vent to their suspended
respiration in a blast through their nostrils, sharp
and shrill as the shriek of a trumpet, and now
crowned the proceeding with a neigh, long, and
fierce, and loud, that sped pealing and reverberating
abroad till the forest rang in all its shelters, far and
near, with the echo.

Amid all these untoward circumstances, the
28*

330 SLA CK-R OSES.

minister, wholly unconscious, or at all events re
gardless, of them, proceeded with his discourse. It
was the sinner's own affair whether he would hear
or whether he would forbear; but as for himself,
it was his business to preach, and, like a faithful
servant, once entered upon his task he was bound
to see it through. Holding fast to the line of his
argument, step by step plodding along he followed
it up. If the sound of his voice happened to be lost
for a time, swallowed up by a wave of tumult rolled
in from the disturbed verge of the camp, no matter ;
a proof missed, more or less, of the proposition, for
instance, that "all mankind sinned in Adam and
fell with him in his first transgression," left the
elucidation of it none the less complete on that
account. Told over and over so often, his people
had heard the story to little purpose if now they
were to lose the chain of it by the simple dropping
of a link. And so the work went on, slowly, steadily,
surely, — one great section of it after another dis
sected, desiccated, and, as was proper with the meat
of doctrine, made dried-beef of to insure its keep
ing, ere laid at length away; and so, like the
"going — going— gone" of an auctioneer, followed
the warning calls, delivered with the due delays
between, of, " In the last place, — finally, — in conclu
sion," when with the closing thump of "Amen!" the
hammer fell, and the sermon was ended. A prayer,
long enough, but brief compared with the one that
went before it, succeeded, followed by a psalm,

THE PRESS YTERIAN. 3 3 1

after which the benediction was pronounced, and
the morning service closed.

Dismissed, the congregation slowly retired in
close procession from their seats, scattering, when
quite outside the precincts of the sanctuary, in
various directions. Some went to look after their
horses, to see that they had not slipped their head
stall, and that their fastenings were secure; or,
perhaps, to " piece" them on nubbins of corn,
brought along in their pockets for that purpose,
just as on the same grain, ground, and baked into
" dodgers," did the mothers their children, and
from the same tenderly considerate motive. Some
withdrew in pairs, or groups of three and four, and,
seeking the shade of a tree, whittled with their
heavy-bladed, horn-handled jack-knives at the
tough knots on their walking-sticks, talking the
while of the weather and the crops; of the flocks
and herds that filled their pastures, — their hogs,
their cattle, and their horses, — and, as likely as
not, going through the preliminary negotiations of
a "swap," which to-morrow or next day would see
consummated, before all was over. Some retired
to the graveyard, picking their course along path
less ways, wading knee-deep in heavy, rank grasses,
and forcing a passage through thickets of thorn and
patches of blackberry-bushes to the spot of their
search, where, pausing and leaning over the rough
stone planted to mark the place, they paid their
tribute of sorrow to the memory of some loved one,

332 BLA CK-R OBES.

— husband, or wife, or child, — whose all of what
once had been left — and that was its ashes — lay
buried there. Women in couples wandered off,
slowly strolling, and pausing ' often on various
trifling pretenses, — to reach a leaf, standing on
tiptoe to do it, or stooping to pluck a flower, — but
quickening their paces as the straggling bushes
intervened to veil their retreat, until tlu utmost
limits of the clearing were passed, and themselves,
hid from view, were lost amid the cover of the
copses. But the centre of general attraction was
the "Spring." Thither, sooner or later during the
"intermission," all were accustomed to repair.
Those that thirsted drank of the water, the more
attentive youths of the flock standing, gourd or
earthen bowl in hand, in turn at the fountain, and
Dispensing the element to the rest in waiting, —
blushing to the brows when the customer happened
to be one, young and fair, of the opposite sex, her
self crimsoning to the bosom in return as she trem
blingly received the proffered vessel from his hand.
Lingering as they came and drank, the visitors
tarried, so that ere long quite a large proportion of
the congregation was assembled at the spot. Seated
on stones or reclined on the grass rested the elders,
puffing their pipes, and through the smoke looking
dreamily on, while their sons and daughters, in
separate companies that would not mingle, and yet
could not keep apart, found pastime, the former
in delving amid the soil for roots of sassafras and

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 333

calamus, and the latter, perchance, in gathering
sprays of spearmint, tramping the beds in which it
grew, and crushing the plants as they did so, till
all the air around was odorous with their perfume.
The blast of a horn blown from the Tent by
the clerk, as the man naturally presumed to be
best in wind for it, gave signal when the half-hour
of intermission was up. At the call the worshipers,
laying aside all levities — alas for the levities ! — of
walk and conversation, resumed their serious de
portment, and in solemn procession took up their
return to the sanctuary. Again were they to be
seen seated in their places. Again the minister
mounted the pulpit, stooped to a kiss of the little
brown jug, and rose to his place at the desk. Again
psalm, prayer, and sermon were delivered in their
order, but with less of prolixity now ; and again,
as the sun's rays fell slanting down through the
tree-tops on the summits of the hills that lay
towards his setting, was heard the welcome end-all
to the exercise, long delayed, but reached at last,
of the benediction. Meeting was over. The last
duty of the day's dismal catalogue was discharged,
and with a sense of relief which it would have been
rank crime against heaven to confess, even to their
own consciences, but which Was felt nevertheless,
the worshipers scattered towards their various
homes, thanking God in their hearts, though the
devil may have had the credit of the suggestion,
that another Sabbath with its "sanctifications" was

334

BLACK-ROBES.

gone, and that a good week's allowance was theirs,
ere its next return, of rest, — rest that was real in
comparison, — rest at the axe, the plow, and the
mattock ; chopping in the forest, furrowing in the
field, or grubbing in the clearing.

IV.

THE LONG SABBATH, AND THE GREAT BUFFALO
SACRAMENT.

THE Great Day, holiest among the hallowed
of the year, and honored with special observ
ance by the Presbyterians of the border, was the
" Long Sabbath," as it was popularly called, or the
Sabbath of the Sacrament. The strong right arm
of him who led, preparing the way of the " New
Departure," had made bare itself with mighty
effect to the lopping oiT of idolatrous superfluities
of worship, so that his followers now, of the round
of ceremonials that used to give variety and lend
attraction to a Lord's-day's services, had but this
single spared, sadly-mutilated remnant left. But
as a mother, bereft of all beside of her offspring,
hugs to her bosom with a therefore more jealous
liking the darling that only remains, so the Pres
byterian clung to his Communion — the one Set-

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 335

time, the sole Solemn Feast, that he could call his
own — with the concentrated whole of his soul^e
devotion. ,

The Sacrament, as the common rule of the time,
was celebrated but once a year. A minister had
usually, however, two congregations under his
care, so that, having to provide for the spiritual
necessities of both, the ordinance occurred twice
under his administration — once to each parish —
during that term. The ceremonies of the season
lasted through five days. The opening one —
Thursday — was consecrated to fasting, humiliation,
and prayer, and was observed, especially in the
first particular, with scrupulous fidelity. It was
the New-Dispensation " Day of Atonement" bor
rowed bodily from the Old; and not Moses himself
could have honored it more strictly in accordance
with his own law, save in the offer of the offering
by fire, perhaps, of the young bullock, the ram,
and the seven lambs, than did his loyal follower
on the border. The sermon of the day was long
beyond ordinary; prayerfully prepared, and par
ticularly, as an exhibit of the "grounds and
reasons" for the fast should be ; and powerfully
adapted, so the assurance comes down to us, as a
strengthening exercise towards making more suc
cessfully the ascension of the mount of ordinances
on the ensuing Sabbath. Friday was not so de
voutly observed. Few, except those who intended
to "take the sacrament," went to meeting, the rest

336 BLA CK-R OSES.

remaining at home and pursuing, but only with
a- half-hearted sort of energy, their usual labors.
Saturday followed in the same way, the " seculars"
doubtfully on duty at work, and the saints having
the worship to themselves. After the preaching
on this day, the session of the church was accus
tomed to meet to examine applicants for member
ship and to distribute " tokens" among those that
were entitled to commune. These "tokens" were
small pieces of flattened lead, about the size of
the copper coin, then in circulation, known as the
"half-cent," and stamped, to make them valid,
with the initials — B. C, for instance, indicating
"Buffalo Church" — of the congregation to which
they belonged. The " token" was regarded for
many years as an "element" excellent of virtue,
and quite as essential to an orthodox celebration
of the Supper as the bread and the wine. It went
into disuse finally, as later and somewhat more
liberal generations sprang up to take the place of
their fathers, but never while a gray-beard of the
old stock lingered to protest against the innova
tion.

The Sabbath, however, was The Day, by emi
nent distinction, of the group, and enjoyed the
special honors of the season accordingly. Not
only did all the members of the .congregation, con
verted and unconverted, make it a point to be in
attendance at the meeting-house, but distant fellow-
believers from other parishes, ten, fifteen, twenty

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 337

miles away, gathered in, so that the exercises,
opening half an hour earlier than usual, witnessed,
when begun, such an assemblage as the sanctuary
usually had scarcely the capacity to accommodate.
The Black-Robe in charge had always from two or
three to half a dozen of his ministerial brethren to
assist him at the services ; while the clerk, extend
ing his invitations on a similar scale of liberality,
not to be behind in supporting the dignity of his
office, was to be seen surrounded by half the
precentors of the Presbytery. The offering of the
introductory prayer was attended to by one of the
reverend aids ; the reading of the psalm, by another.
The delivery of the discourse, or Action Sermon, as
it was called, devolved upon the pastor. A third
assistant afterwards took up the exercise of Fencing"
the Tables, or, as with propriety it might be termed,
" Boxing the Compass" of the creed. This was a
performance preliminary to the dispensation of the
Sacrament, in which, taking the Ten Command
ments for his text, the preacher entered upon an
exposition that, beginning with the first, was sus
tained — the rest, one by one, following in their
order — until the list entire was disposed of. Emi
nent account was made of the decalogue as covering
the whole ground of qualification for church-mem
bership, and so rigorously were the tables "fenced"
in the enumeration of the sins forbidden in each
commandment, that it was commonly remarked
2-)

338 BLA CK-R OSES.

by the profane (and without dissent, either, on the
part of the reverend biographer who chronicles the
fact), that " the preacher never stopped till he had
solemnly debarred from the ordinance every one
of his people, and himself to boot."

These preparatory services discharged, the bap
tismal ceremonies came next. All the children
of believers born within the year, to the very
youngest, where it was possible for the parents to
appear with them, were expected to be present to
undergo the rite. A long dissertation preceded
the "sprinkling," in which were dwelt upon, par
ticularly, the points in controversy between the
more prominent sects of the time : first, that is,
as to whether infants were proper subjects of
the ordinance ; and second, whether the mode in
vogue among Presbyterians of applying it was the
scriptural one ; both of which were affirmatively
demonstrated to the entire satisfaction of all con
cerned. It was not only recommended to the
parents at the same time, but required of them by
solemn vow, that they should conscientiously per
form all their duty in the religious training and
nurturing of their children ; especially attending to
their instruction in that faultless digest of only
genuine doctrine, the Shorter Catechism. As a
test of their fidelity to the promise thus given, it
was the custom of the minister to call at least once
a year on each of the families in his charge, and
put the children to the " question" (in more senses

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

339

than one), who were expected, and seldom failed,
to be ready for the ordeal.

Then followed " the Sacrament." Tables made
of logs with the upper side hewn down so as to
leave a flat surface, and supported either on blocks
of wood or legs of sapling-stocks cut the right
length and straddled apart, two at each end, to
make a steady work of it, were arranged length
wise along the central aisle or passage, and again
transversely across the open space in front of the
pulpit. Other logs, dressed in a similar way, but
narrower and lower, and designed to serve as seats,
ran parallel-wise along either side of the table. On
the centre of the transverse table, and consequently
at the head of the other, — widened somewhat for
the purpose, — stood the vessels containing the
sacred symbols. These latter were covered with
white linen napkins, as, in cloth of the same mate
rial, was the board itself (neatly folded and pinned
at the corners) ; prepared — the spotlessness of the
fabric, and the creases, marked by the iron, with
which it was barred, showing with what an eye to
tidiness — for the occasion. Taking his station at
this point of the table, the exercises of the Feast
were opened by the pastor with an address, the
most noticeable feature of which was its elaborate
laying bare of the kindred enormities of transub-
stantiation and impanation, as heretically enter
tained by Romanists and Lutherans ; both of
which, the people were assured, it became them as

3 40 BLA CK-R OBES.

good and true communicants utterly to repudiate.
Next in order a psalm was read, during the
singing of which, to some melancholy tune, such
as "Coleshill," or "Communion," or, when the
metre admitted of it, " Windham," a portion of the
church-members rising to their feet and filing into
line marched into and along the aisle, the men on
one side and the women on the other, until the
leaders reached the end of the table, where they
seated themselves, — their followers dropping suc
cessively into place likewise, side by side, as they
approached, until the benches were filled. The
singing then ceased ; whereupon two of the elders
arose, and, commencing at the rear of the board,
started along the lines to collect the tokens ; pretty
much as a car-conductor does, passing among his
passengers to lift their tickets for the trip. Served
with the customary formalities, more or less tedious
as the minister officiating chose at his pleasure to
order it, this first installment of communicants re
tired at length, under cover of Coleshill resumed ;
while a second, at the same time, — the counter-files
edging side-wise past each other as they came and
went along the narrow aisle, — moved forward to
occupy their vacated places. The same proceed
ing was repeated over and over again, so that there
were, not unfrequently, six or seven tables filled
and administered to before all were served who
were entitled to the privilege. At the close of the
meeting the preachers and the elders were accus-

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 341

tomed to assemble in a little group by themselves
and have a private entertainment of their own, on
a more liberal scale, over the elements that were
left of the Supper, not, of course, to gratify a carnal
appetite, but merely to show, practically, their con
tempt of the old notion, which they had just heard
denounced from the pulpit, of the fact of a Real
Presence in the Sacrament, or that the bread and
wine were anything other, holier or better, than
they ought to be.

It seems almost incomprehensible how out of a
series of exercises so frigid and formal it should
be possible for other than correspondingly formal
and frigid effects to proceed. The intellectual and
the emotional are not in such relations of sym
pathy that the tender susceptibilities of the one
should melt responsively to the dull logic (which
it does not comprehend) of the other. And yet
we have the evidence that the miracle could
happen; that a homily of Smith's or Macurdy's
could arouse to enthusiasm as well as a harangue
from Finley or Cartwright, and that the impertur
bable predestinarian could be brought to his rap
tures as well as the impressible Methodist. Shortly
after the Cane-Ridge revival, a very similar move
ment started in one of the Presbyterian parishes
of Western Pennsylvania. It created intense ex
citement at the time, and — not only because of the
extraordinary manifestations which attended it, but
as the opening scene of a revival that spread through

29*

342 BLACK-ROBES.

all the settlements, and continued, more or less
powerfully, to prevail through some four years, to
the material building up of the Redstone Zion —
has become memorable in the annals of the church.
The occasion is associated with the place in which
it occurred, and is known in the narratives of the
time as the GREAT BUFFALO SACRAMENT.

On the last Sabbath of October, 1802, the com
munion of the congregation at Cross Roads took
place, which was attended with such gracious dis
plays of divine power as to induce the brethren to
make an appointment for the administration of
the same ordinance, two weeks later, at the church
of Upper Buffalo. Very remarkable exercises had
attended the services at Cross Roads, in the pres
ence of an unusually large assembly, the fame of
which was carried far and wide throughout the
region; so that when the announcement was pub
lished that the celebration was to be repeated, the
people everywhere were eagerly ready to attend.
With the dawn of the day before the appointed
Sabbath — Saturday — began to pour in the wor
shipers, the tide keeping increasingly up until
much the largest assembly which had ever been
seen at a religious meeting in Western Pennsyl
vania, numbering about ten thousand, was collected
on the ground. Among the rest were fifteen min
isters. Houses in the neighborhood were hos
pitably thrown open for the accommodation of
attendants ; horses were stabled in the barns, and

THE PRESBYTERIAN.

343

the wants of both — beasts and owners — abundantly
supplied while food and fodder lasted. Tents, with
which they had prudently come provided, were
erected by some, while others camped in the woods,
under booths of bushes hastily heaped together
for a shelter. On Saturday afternoon two of the
ministers preached at the same time, — one in the
meeting-house, the other in the tent. Exercises,
consisting of preaching, exhortation, prayer, and
praise, were resumed in the evening and kept up
through the night. Two discourses were deliv
ered, simultaneously again, on Sunday morning,
one in the church, as before, and one in the open
air. The Sacrament, with its customary formali
ties, was then administered, nearly a thousand
communicants participating in the ceremony. The
Reverend Elisha Macurdy, well remembered yet
by many on the scene of his early labors, as in
the closing days of his life he used to appear,
after having officiated at the first table, at the re
quest of one of his brethren, took a position at a
short distance from the meeting-house, and, while
the rest of the tables were still being served, began
to preach to the crowd that soon collected about
him. He selected for his text the second Psalm,
and delivered the discourse, entirely unpremedi
tated, as we are assured, which proved the eventful
one of his life, and which has ever since been fa
mously known in clerical circles as " Macurdy's
War Sermon." The effect produced upon his

344 BLA CK- ROBES.

audience was overwhelming, — literally, almost, in
point of fact, like a discharge of musketry. He
"popped them down," as the saying among the
thoughtless and wicked was, " like pigeons," the
scene appearing " like the close of a battle, in
which every tenth man had fallen fatally wounded."
It was the old experience told over again of Cane-
Ridge, the same mysterious agency breaking out
and working in the same mysterious way. Some
fell to the earth suddenly ; some sunk gradually ;
some lay quiet and silent; some were violently
agitated; some, seeing the spiritual glory, rejoiced
hopefully, while others groaned in pain, sorrowing
and thirsting for the water of life. The work con
tinued with unabated interest on through Monday
and until the evening of Tuesday, the people lin
gering fondly as long as they might at the place
where so much of God's power had been mani
fested in their presence

Not to let the awakening subside, nor to fail of
putting it to the best advantage while it lasted, the
meeting at Buffalo Creek was followed up by sim
ilar ones, held, one after another, in all the various
churches of the region. Each in its turn was
a success, the interest which had foeen aroused
keeping up unabatedly from first to last. Crowds
gathered at all, from all quarters of the country, —
from the Forks, from Salem, from Congruity, from
Chartiers. The church at Cross Roads was so
packed with hearers that the preacher, unable to

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 345

force an entrance at the door, had to use a ladder
and climb in to his pulpit through a back window
of the building.

A remarkable feature of the revival, viewed in
connection with its peculiarities of manifestation,
was the character of the preaching, not only under
which it started, but by which, afterwards, it was
sustained. The sermons were purely doctrinal.
The source and the supply of the enthusiasms of
the season were the Confession of Faith and the
Catechisms. The doctrine of Justification by Faith,
we are assured, was much insisted upon ; also that
of Sanctification by the Word and Spirit of God,
and the manner of receiving Christ and walking in
Him, as set forth in the Holy Scriptures and the
Standards of the church. That " men of informa
tion, of strong nerves and vigorous understand
ings," to say nothing of women and children, should
have been overcome — " popped down like pigeons"
— by orthodox knocks such as these, is certainly
astonishing, and is about the best evidence that
could be quoted in proof of the presence of a
supernatural agency in the work.

That there was an influence more than human
astir was generally conceded among the members;
but whether it emanated from above, or proceeded
from below, was a controverted point. One would
suppose that the simple fact of there being room
to doubt the question ought to have settled it. To
say that " the devil could not have been its author,"

346 BLA CK-ROBES.

seems rather like an intimation that there was
plausible reason to suspect he was, and to try to
prove the proposition only strengthens the doubt.

Outside the communion, among " the opposers
of the revival," the excitement was attributed by
many to the terrific character of the preaching,
the vehement appeals to the conscience, and the
protracted exercises ; all calculated, as was alleged,
to produce just such an effect on persons of weak
nerves and delicate constitutions. As against this
solution, it was retorted that the deists who offered
it ought to be ashamed of it, especially as not
a few of their own number, fortified against im
pression by the writings of Bolingbroke, Hume,
Voltaire, and Paine, had, nevertheless, been brought
down among the rest. Could such a miracle be
ascribed to anything else than the finger of God ?

Others accounted for it on the ground of " Sym
pathy." In rejoinder to this theory, it was urged
that sympathy can only communicate as it has been
communicated to ; that it never could have begun
such a work, and that the work having ceased
though but for an hour, it could not have brought
it again into operation. One person falling might
have brought another sympathizing neighbor down
with him, but what occasioned the first prostra
tion ? The merit of the invention of this argument
belongs to the Rev. Doctor George A. Baxter, the
then President of Washington College.

A more philosophical and better-sustained view,

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 347

as its author claims, was that the bodily affection
was the result of the mental excitement arising
from the influence of the Spirit and truth of God
upon the consciences of those who were its sub
jects. As violent gusts of passion, sudden sur
prise, strong mental impulses in which either joy
or sorrow predominates, produce sometimes inju
rious, occasionally fatal, bodily results, why might
not similar effects proceed from the similar in
fluence of religious excitement? And yet the
inventor of the argument confesses to having en
countered a difficulty in it, — this, that there were
instances of pungent exercise of mind where the
generally accompanying physical symptoms were
entirely wanting. The difficulty was an insuper
able one, for an exception to the rule was an ex
tinguisher to the argument, as the projector of it
upon final reflection concedes, and it was aban
doned. No explanation could be settled on that
was entirely satisfactory, although the general con
viction soon grew to be that the outsiders, or
" opposers," had, as near as could be, the sensible
view of it.

As the results of this remarkable outpouring of
the Spirit, we are informed that many hundreds of
persons, of both sexes and of all ages, were brought
under deep conviction of their sins. A considerable
proportion of these — one hundred and twenty-five
at the congregations of Cross-Roads and Three
Springs alone — were converted, as it was hopefully

348 BLACK-ROBES.

believed ; but there were numerous cases among
them, unhappily, of apostasy. On the whole, not
withstanding the large accessions claimed, the
church does not seem to have afterwards held the
Buffalo style of sensation in particular esteem; for,
with the exception of a brief run of very unsatis
factory experience at the Anxious Bench, which
occurred about a generation later, when similar
scenes, though on a less extravagant scale, were
acted over again, she has cautiously steered clear
of it altogether.

V.

THE EARLY LABORERS IN THE BORDER VINEYARD.

OF those who enjoy distinguished mention, as
eminent on one account or another among
the Presbyterian Black-Robes of the border, the
choice of renown attaches to the half-dozen who
were foremost to take the field, — Power, McMillan,
Finley, Smith, Dodd, and Clark. These " mission
aries" appeared on the scene of their future labors
nearly simultaneously, — entering almost abreast, as
we are told, upon the mighty harvest, — and con
tinued thenceforward as faithful co-workers in the
cause to the end. As conglomerately, so to speak,
the Rock upon which the Western Zion was
founded, their fame rates high, in the estimation

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 349

especially of the generation that succeeded them ;
nor among the children's children will their names
be forgotten while frontier legends, told at family
firesides, may hold their power to charm, or while
the local histories last, to invite a perusal, in which
they are written. We have already alluded to most
of them, but a somewhat more particular reference
may not be out of place.

JAMES POWER emigrated with his family to the
West in 1776. He did not take the regular charge
of a congregation for some years, but served as a
sort of missionary pastor, dividing his time among
the churches at Mount Pleasant, Unity, Laurel
Hill, Dunlap's Creek, Tyrone, and Sewickley. Five
years later he was installed as the regular pastor
over the flocks of the two folds at Mount Pleasant
and the neighboring field of Sewickley. In 1787
he ceased his connection with the latter-mentioned
people, and, on a salary of one hundred and fifty
pounds a year, devoted his exclusive services to
the former. Here he remained until the spring
of 1817, when, in consequence of the infirmities
attending old age, he retired, resigning his charge
to the care of the Rev. A. O. Patterson. Thirteen
years afterwards he died.

Mr. Power was a man of medium height, slen
derly built, and of erect stature. In his dress he
was plain and neat ; easy in his manners ; cour
teous in his deportment ; of a mild disposition ; a
dignified minister in the pulpit,- and a genial gen-
30

350

BLACK-ROBES.

tleman, though rather a precise one, out of it. He
had a sweet voice, and spoke with great ease and
no little eloquence. His favorite portion of the
Scriptures was the Psalms ; handling them often
at the desk, — always, in fact, when favorable occa
sions tempted him to aim at telling effects in his
lectures. His parishes extended over a reach of
thirty miles, every family in which it was his rule
to visit at least once during each year. Besides
these pastoral calls, it was his custom to assemble
the people, men, women, and children, of different
neighborhoods, from time to time, and put them
through a course of examination on doctrinal faith ;
requiring them to repeat the Assembly's Catechism
from beginning to end, together with the proofs
from the Bible, and the explanations of Fisher.
In addition to his other virtues, faithful chroniclers
have not neglected to note the fact that he was
a good rider and an excellent judge of a horse;
always, with an eye to the protection of his dress,
selecting one with such a step as would not cast
mud or dirt, while traveling, on his person. Pro
fessionally, Mr. Power's labors could not be said
to have been rewarded with remarkable results ;
although it is claimed for him that he was success
ful in edifying Christians, instructing the young,
and improving the morals of the community.

JOHN McMiLLAN was born of North-of-Ireland
parents, at Fagg's Manor, Chester County, Penn
sylvania, in 1752. ' He commenced his classical

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 351

studies at the academy, somewhat celebrated, of
his native place, under the charge of the Rev. John
Blair, which he further pursued at the grammar-
school at Pequea, and finally completed at Prince
ton College, in New Jersey, at the time presided
over by the Rev. Dr. Witherspoon. He studied
theology privately under the direction of Dr. Smith,
at Pequea, was licensed by the Presbytery of New
Castle in 1774, and entered upon his border mission,
taking charge of the congregations at Chartiers and
Pigeon Creek, in the fall of 1778. Mr. McMillan
was a man of stern and forbidding aspect ; of an
uncommonly dark complexion, and with a coun
tenance sharply marked and strikingly expressive
in every feature. His manners were "studiedly"
— perhaps it would be nearer the mark to say
vulgarly — plain. He was clownishly careless as
to his personal appearance, being usually dressed,
as chroniclers, seeing fun but no farce in the fact,
inform us, like the Jack of Spades, with boots on
like a ten-gallon keg. It is scarcely characterizing
his common walk and conversation too severely to
say that they were ungentlemanly. General Mor
gan having ridden to church one day in a carriage,
the first vehicle of the kind ever seen in the neigh
borhood, Mr. McMillan manifested his ill-bred
impertinence by contemptuously remarking in his
sermon that " people might travel on the broad
road in fine carriages, as well as on horseback or
afoot." In a quarrel with one of his professional

352 BLA CK-R OSES.

brethren, the Rev. Mr. Birch, he denounced him
as "a liar, a drunkard, and a preacher of the devil."
Mr. Birch entered suit against him for slander, on
which he was tried before the civil court of Wash
ington County, and convicted. The plea that the
language had been used in a sort of Pickwickian
sense, secured a reversal of the decision in the
Supreme Court, to which it was appealed, but
could not shake the opinion of the honorable-
minded among the people, that the expression
was grossly unbecoming, and such as no circum
stances could justify, especially in a minister of the
gospel.

As a preacher, Dr. McMillan was of no marked
reputation. There was little or no action in his
delivery. He seldom moved an arm or lifted a
hand, by way of gesture, in the pulpit His voice
was harsh, and his sermons, while always sensible,
pious, and full of matter, were severely plain and
simple. He was much in the habit of repeating
himself; but his exhortations, though heard ever
so often, always, somehow, we are assured, seemed
fresh to the hearer. As a teacher he was a greater
success than as a preacher ; so that, although there
was reason to be thankful for three wide- spread
and powerful revivals that occurred under his min
istry, the church confesses to a deeper sjnse of
gratitude for the hundred, more or le;s, of young
men taken in hand and trained for the pulpit under
his private tuition. He lived to the ripe old age

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 353

of fourscore-and-one, his death taking place at
Canonsburg in 1833, up almost to the very date of
which he continued, with his mental and physical
faculties but little impaired, in the active prosecu
tion of his professional labors.

JAMES FINLEY, an Irishman, born (1725) in the
county of Armagh, in the province of Ulster, emi
grated to America while yet a boy ; was taught in
the languages and sciences at Fagg's Manor ; or
dained to preach in 1752, was the first minister to
set foot on western soil, although rather on a merce
nary tramp (having "an eye on certain good tracts
of land") than a missionary one ; moved to the
border with his family in 1783, and permanently
settled there, as the pastor of Rehoboth and Round-
hill congregations, some two years afterwards. Mr.
Finley is described as a fat, fidgety, red-faced little
fellow in black, good-natured, and quite a favorite
among his people. He was a man who, while duly
attentive to spiritual affairs, was, at the same time,
not forgetful of temporal ones. It was possible,
as he saw it, to serve God, and yet, without dispar
agement to his loyalty, to lend some little alle
giance to Mammon too. To have a faith was no
reason why he should not have a farm, or, for that
matter, several farms, — one for each of his half-
dozen of promising boys. The only points in
Mr. Finley's history which tradition has laid hold
of as worthy of mention are that he was a man of
eminent piety, and an excellent pastor; that he

354 BLACK-ROBES.

visited mudi among his people, and that he was
particularly remarkable for his attention to the
catechetical instruction of the youth of his con
gregation. In his own family it was his custom to
call his children and slaves together and put them,
through the same training, regularly every Sabbath
evening. His forte does not seem to have lain so
much in bringing sheep into the fold as in keeping
them there when they were in. He was conserva
tive rather than aggressive ; better satisfied to hold
fast to the bird in the hand than to run any risk by
reaching after others in the bush. And so he lived,
his parish his world, he all in all to his people, his
people all in all to him ; and so he died.

JOSEPH SMITH, a Marylander, of Nottingham in
that State, was born in 1736, received his literary
education at Princeton, studied theology under Dr.
Samuel Finley, at Nassau Hall, and in 1767 was
licensed to preach the gospel. He visited Wash
ington County in 1779, where he remained for
some time, breaking the bread of life to these
people " in the wilderness." A few months later
he received a call from the congregations at Buffalo
and Cross Creek, which he accepted, moving out to
take charge of them in the year following. Mr.
Smith was tall and slender in person, of fair com
plexion, an expressive countenance, and with eyes
that were piercingly brilliant, but which, like the
celebrated Whitefield's, squinted. This peculiarity
served him in profitable stead, however, giving

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 355

him an increased power over his audience; as, look
where he might, each hearer felt that his eye was
on him, and, taking the notice in good faith, ac
cepted the appeal that went with it, never doubting,
as personal to himself. His voice, promptly ad
justable to any style of eloquence, — "now like the
thunder, and now like the music of heaven," — was
perfectly at home alike on the "terrific" as on the
"pathetic," — when in glowing rhapsodies he pic
tured the attractions of heaven, or when, " arrayed
with divine and awful majesty, he uncovered the
bottomless and wide-extending pit of woe, whose
billows of fire are ever lashed into fury by the
almighty breath of an incensed Saviour !" He
was more particularly strong, however, on the
" terrific," — " that kind of preaching that drives a
man into the corner of his pew, and makes him
think the devil is after him;" on which account he
was generally known as "Hell-fire" Smith along
the border. As a deviser of innocent contrivances
"to catch flanking-parties and strolling individuals
in the gospel net," and as an " eagle-eyed spy and
scouter upon the trails of the enemy," capturing
them singly and in squadrons, he was eminently
skillful and successful. In the Christian warfare
upon which he was entered, he made it his mission
to conquer, — peaceably when he could, forcibly
when he must ; accepting the latter alternative,
as it happened, unhesitatingly and boldly, for "he
feared none of the devil's emissaries on this side of

356 BLA CK-R OBES.

hell." He was of a particularly devotional temper
of mind, observing closely not only the regularly-
appointed seasons of fasting, humiliation, and
prayer, but privately, in his own family and on
his own account, setting apart others, and keeping
them quite as religiously. It was, also, a common
custom with him to seize occasions in the night
for intercessory exercises ; at which times he would
leave his couch and kneel upon the floor, — in the
winter season and when the nights were cold, keep
ing for his comfort, as he did so, a cloak always
hanging ready to wrap about him, at the foot of
his bed.

Hell-fire Smith may with propriety be said to
have been the Lion of the Tribe of the Redstone
Judah. Wind and will and muscle are potent
elements in the church as well as out of it, and
there was a larger share of all of them lodged in
that long, lank frame of his than in the persons
of the whole remaining of his co-presbyters put
together. He had scarcely planted himself among
the people of his charges before a lively " gale" of
grace was started in both congregations. Keeping
in steady blast through the mean time, the gale
reached its height at the May Sacrament of 1787,
at Cross Creek, after which it subsided considera
bly, still continuing, however, to sustain a vigorous
current, as long as life was spared the inspirer of
it to keep it in motion. He died, after a twelve
years' service in the settlements, on the I9th of

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 357

April, 1792; sorely to the sorrow and seriously
to the apprehension of his people, who, a mourn
ing cotemporary informs us, —

" trembled when this Pillar fell,

Lest God, who his ambassador withdrew,
Should take away his Holy Spirit too."

THADDEUS DOD, educated at the College of New
Jersey, and ordained by the Presbytery of New
York in 1777 or '78, moved in the year following
with his family to the West, where he settled, in
charge of the two congregations of Upper Ten-Mile
and Lower Ten-Mile, each about the distance im
plied by their names from the town of Washington.
Mr. Dod is described as a young man of sallow
complexion, slender figure, black hair, and with
eyes that were dark, keen, and penetrating. Intel
lectually he was possessed of only ordinary ability,
although he had not failed, by diligent use of the
means of improvement that were within his reach,
to make the most out of his faculties that they
were capable of. He made himself a thorough
master of the Greek, Latin, and Hebrew languages.
His preferences, however, ran rather in the line of
the exact sciences. The Dods of the day were
famous for their mathematical heads, and Thad-
deus did no discredit to the connection. He could
explain every line and figure on Gunter's scale ; and
that his pupils, when he had them, might do so,
perfectly, too, it was required of them that they

358 BLACK-ROBES.

should make copies of this ingenious contrivance
to carry about with them in their pockets, so as to
be conveniently at hand at all times for study, —
which they did, carving them out of pieces, neatly
prepared for the purpose, of dogwood. Mr. Dod,
known throughout the parishes as the " Son of
• Consolation," was a man in whom the crowning
Christian virtue shone more conspicuously than in
any other of his brethren, — in fact, in whom alone
of the whole Presbytery it may be said to have
shone particularly at all. He was modest and un-
presuming in his manners, gentle in his speech,
and deeply devout and spiritual in his nature. But
Providence had never, evidently, designed him for
the pulpit. Mathematics was his mission. He
seemed himself to be conscious of the fact, and
before he had been many years in the service began
to turn his chief attention in that direction. In
1782 he opened the first classical and scientific
school in the West. Seven years later he was
appointed principal of the academy at Washing
ton, which position he continued to fill until the
old court-house in which it was kept was de
stroyed by fire. He died in the spring of 1793.

JOHN CLARK, born " somewhere" in the State of
New Jersey, educated at Princeton, and licensed
by the Presbytery of New Brunswick, after having
spent much the better part of his life in unprofit
able service among various folds in his own and
the neighboring Presbytery of Philadelphia, moved

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 359

to the Redstone region in 1 78 1, and, then in the
sixty-fourth year of his age, took charge of the
united congregations of Bethel and Lebanon. Mr.
Clark had not experienced a halcyon time of it
while tending his flocks in the valleys of the Dela
ware, and this was undoubtedly the chief induce
ment which tempted him to hazard the fortunes
of his declining years among a strange people and
in the new settlements of the border. The big
white wig he wore — quite a novelty on the frontier
— has kept the memory of him from perishing,
more than anything else. Concerning him as a
preacher, except in the general, matter-of-course
particular that he was " solemn and impressive,"
little or nothing is known. His church had its
attendants on Sabbath-days, but whether they
were not attracted there by the performances, reg
ularly to be expected, of two of his slaves famous
for their singing, rather than by his preaching, is a
point which at least will admit of dispute. Perhaps
the cause may have been benefited somehow by
his labors, but, if it was, no one seems to have
discovered it. His death is mentioned as having
taken place in 1797. Bancroft Ubrary

The Redstone settlements, even at this early
period in their history, must have been a remark
ably inviting field for missionary enterprise, not
withstanding the perils and privations, so elabo
rately and so compassionately made note of by
historians, which attended the occupation of it;

3<5o BLACK-ROBES.

because we discover that at a very early date other
missionaries were out on their own account, to
share the labors and to participate in the profits
of the same vineyard. The fact that some of these
may have been pronounced impostors, and the rest,
all of them, regarded as informally, one way or
another, in the service, while it may indicate a lack
of strict fidelity among them, somehow, to their
church, cannot but be accepted nevertheless as an
evidence of their zeal. Participating alike in the
risks of the mission, and subject equally to its
hardships, they are as justly entitled to mention as
any of their regularly commissioned and respecta
bly recognized cotemporaries. A certain Mr. Barr,
we are told, gained admission into the Presbytery
shortly after its organization. Where he labored
we are not informed. His connection with the
Presbytery lasted some three or four years, when,
it having become too plainly apparent that he was
a hinderance rather than a help in the cause, he
received his dismissal. Thomas Cooly, a "wan
dering star" from the Presbytery of Charleston,
South Carolina, as he claimed, illuminated the
congregations for some time, but serious doubts
began to be entertained at length of his orthodoxy.
He was called up to undergo an examination OP
"experimental religion and cases of conscience," in
which he failed satisfactorily to sustain himself. It
was afterwards ascertained that he was out under
forged credentials, when, instead of being stripped

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 361

of his robe of office, he was merely transferred, on
his own petition, to the Presbytery of Carlisle.
Two Irishmen, father and son, of the name of Mor
rison, filled pulpits here and there for awhile, but
they proved vexatious and troublesome, and it was
not long until, according to a peculiar expression
of the time, they were " hated out" of the settle
ments. Mr. Hughey, an importation from Ireland,
— Presbytery of Deny, — was also found prophesy
ing among the people. He was regarded by the
Redstone regulars as a slippery adventurer, loose in
his belief, and altogether unworthy of confidence.
Being accustomed to officiate at weddings, Pres
bytery, not liking the interference, took the matter
up, and, after due deliberation, resolved that, "as
many difficulties arose from marriages celebrated
by Mr. Hughey," who had no authority civil or
ecclesiastical to perform the same, "such mar
riages be discountenanced, and people cautioned
against them as unlawful." The Derry divine, cut
off from his most profitable source of income,
soon retired, and was heard of no more among the
churches. The next and last prominent of the re
pudiated was " a man of the name of Birch," who
has already been referred to in connection with
the McMillan slander suit. Mr. Birch was an
Irishman, and a regularly ordained Presbyterian
minister. He was charged by his brethren as being
deficient in " experimental knowledge ;" in fact, as
destitute of piety. It was also suspected of him

362 BLA CK-R OBES.

that he was addicted to the too free use of liquor.
On these accounts, when he applied for admission
into the Presbytery he was rejected. If Mr. Birch
was in the habit of manifesting in his daily life any
thing like as little of the genuine spirit of piety as
was exhibited when that application was made by
the ecclesiastical body into which he asked to be
received, then was the judgment that excluded him
a most just and righteous one. Dishonored thus
in his own country, the discarded prophet next laid
his application before the Presbytery of Baltimore,
where he fared better, — \\\zk fag-end of the Presby
terian Church, as it was contemptuously styled
by its border sister, admitting him, by a " gross
irregularity," into its body. Mr. Birch still con
tinued on duty in the West. We do not hear that
he accomplished much by his labors, but there is
no evidence that the after-course of his life justified
the scandalous accusations of Mr. McMillan, or
could be referred to as vindicating the angry
charges of complaint against the Presbytery that
adopted him.

As the scenes of his earliest labors, the Presby
terian Black-Robe had invariably fixed upon fields
selected out of country quarters. All the churches
to which reference has been made were situated in
the various settlements planted along the water
courses and intermediate uplands included in what
are now known as Washington, Fayette, West
moreland, and the south-of-the-river strip of Alle-

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 363

ghany Counties. The towns which had sprung up
here and there, Greensburg, Uniontown, Browns
ville, Washington, Florence, and the like, were
entirely destitute of the means of grace, except as
very rarely, now and then, in a missionary way, it
may have been dispensed to them by the pastors
of the neighboring rural churches. From the time,
in 1756, when Charles Beatty, acting for a few
months as chaplain among the troops at Fort Pitt,
was accustomed to induce attendance at worship by
making the distribution of whisky rations a part
of the service, down for thirty years, there was not
a priest of any persuasion, nor church, nor chapel,
in Pittsburg. The whole town, as a distinguished
Virginia visitor of the time has testified, was likely
to be damned without benefit of clergy. In 1786
an interest seems to have awakened in the spiritual
welfare of the slovenly Scotch and Irish inhabitants
of the place, and a congregation was organized,
over which the Rev. Samuel Barr was settled by
Presbytery as the pastor. Mr. Barr had not been
long in his place before trouble arose between him
and his people. It was alleged against the latter
that they would not hold themselves amenable to
church discipline ; that they devolved upon their
pastor the responsibility of collecting his salary ;
that the elders among them indulged too much
in drinking and card-playing and being idle with
women ; that they were untruthful and covetous ;
and that by circulating false reports they had

364 BLACK-ROBES.

made it impossible to worship God in a peace
able manner on the Sabbath-day. On the other
hand, it was retaliated by the elders that their
minister had not done his duty by his people ;
that he had not visited their families, nor ex
amined them in their Catechism ; that he had
collected money in Philadelphia and New York
and rendered no account of it to the trustees or
anybody else in the church ; that he never tried to
use discipline; and that he, as well as his officers,
was addicted to card-playing and night-reveling.
A trial of the case being had before Presbytery,
the elders were sustained, and Mr. Barr, after a
three years' term of service, was relieved of his
charge. Upon assuming his pastorate, _a church
" of squared timbers and moderate dimensions"
was erected for the accommodation of his flock.
This humble structure was the original First Pres
byterian Church of Pittsburg. In course of time
around it were piled — itself remaining undisturbed
meanwhile — the brick walls of another edifice, con
sidered as very imposing in its day, but which grew
to be despised, too, in after-years, and was torn
away to give place to the temple which, of far
costlier construction, has since been reared, and
still stands, with its two stone towers planted square
and broad upon its old foundations, the pride of
the worshipers that gather at its gates.

For two years after Mr. Barr's retirement the
congregation remained without a pastor. In 1793

THE PRESBYTERIAN. 365

Mr. Mahon, a licentiate of the Carlisle Presby
tery, undertook to supply the pulpit ; but, like his
predecessor, his " experimental acquaintance with
religion" was not what Presbytery, after having put
him through an examination, thought it ought to
be, and within about a year his connection with
the church was dissolved. Mr. Semple followed
next ; but, the civil law proving more to his taste
than the ecclesiastical, he abandoned the pulpit
and tpok to the bar. The congregation, failing,
after so many attempts, to secure the services of a
sound man, declined now to experiment further,
and through a long interim were shepherdless al
together. In 1800 Mr. Steele made a venture at
the vacancy. His brethren had grave doubts about
his orthodoxy ; but, after two trial sermons preached
in their hearing,— meanwhile, however, being al
lowed to officiate as a "supply," — he was finally
admitted, speciali gratia, into the Presbytery. A
call was then (1802) placed in his hands, and the
First Church of Pittsburg had a pastor.

With the occupation of Pittsburg the "mission
ary" labors of the church may be said to have
terminated. Satan had here intrenched himself
behind his last defenses, and when these were
stormed and taken his sovereignty was ended.
Presbyterianism had conquered the situation. It
only remained for her to protect herself in the pos
session of her properties, — to call in her " watch-
31*

366 BLACK ROBES.

men to set on her walls," to lengthen the cords of
her tents and strengthen her stakes ; and to this
work were her energies thenceforth directed. How
she met the responsibility, with what success,
through what chances, and changes, and modifi
cations in her experience, her faith, and her cus
toms, and whether, consistently, for worse, or at
clash, for better, with the example of the olden
time, her after-history, which falls not within the
province of this sketch, and her living self, as she
stands to-day, will best illustrate.

THE END.

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BIOGRAPHY AND MYTHOLOGY

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m

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